Silent Hill Drabble Suggestionare
by Hilarious-Mayhem
Summary: Suggest a story! Be it your favourite pairing or the kookiest possible situation you can think of, we will write it! Ratings vary.
1. Suggestaire Extrordinare

So you're here~!

Since you clicked on this you have to be at least a little interested in the prospect of suggesting a story for me to write.

Why else would you? Unless you're just one of those people that randomly click on stories…you guys are off the hook.

So, I suppose I'll set out the rules now, while you're still paying attention.

Rule #1: Suggest a story drabble and I may do it. People may admit as many they can think of, though I may not do all of them. Most of the stories I make will be one chapter one-shots. I will do any rating, either being K-M and any genre. You just have to give me a pairing. Pairing may be yaoi, Yuri, threesome whatever you could possibly want it to be, I'm up and willing for anything. Suggest your favorite pairing or just give out the kookiest pairing you can possibly think of to see how it turns out!

Rule #2: Keep reviewing and giving me suggestions! I have a lot of work to do, and if this isn't given any attention, I will probably lose the will to write and not want to do anything.

Rule #3: Have fun thinking up suggestions to give! Any story that I do end up making will have the name of the person who suggested it credited.

Anyway, all those whom are reading this, why wouldn't you just take a minute to review and suggest a pairing or drabble you would like to see happen? You may enjoy the story that pops up from just a small suggestion~!

Lots of love and cookies,

~Hilarious-Mayhem


	2. Pyramid Fangirl Horror

**Author's Note: Short and crappy drabble. ****L Hopefully this doesn't become a habit, but I just wanted to write this even though my creative juices weren't flowing. Hope ya'll like it anyway, this is the first pure crack Silent Hill dabbling I've done. With a little hint of Yaoi mixed XD. I love SH Yaoi. SO if you're opposed to yaoi, ignore the hint of yaoiness. You may like it anyway XD. I WISH TO CONVERT YOU PEOPLE!!! HAHA!!! (joke to all those that are two nickels short of a quarter, if you know what I mean 'eyebrow raise'.) Enjoy.**

_PH - FANGIRL DRABBLE_

*****

**SUGGESTED/CONTRIBUTED BY**: **Crazycheesyperson**** (**loved the idea of this story, thank you so very much for giving me some material XD. If you have any more suggestions, I will pay close attention on keeping tabs of them. Your participation is very much appreciated. Though your idea of the story probably is better than what I could do XD Hope you enjoy.)

*****

_Summary: Pyramid Head + 1000 Fangirls. Poor guy._

*****

**Fangirlism: of or pertaining to that of a female whom practices the ancient art of fangirling religiously. These women become crazed or potentially obsessive when denied the objects of their fantasies. They should be avoided at all cost if possible. O.O **

** If you ever do happen to "diss" the object of fantasy in question towards a fan girl, you will probably be dead within twenty seconds or less, unless you bribe or distract them with things involving the fantasy. They can be very violent when opposed.**

**BEWARE!!!**

*********

It happened so suddenly that nobody had the slightest idea of what was to come til they had come flooding in, coating the nice fog-covered streets with something that could only be described as one of the most terrifying things that had ever set foot in Silent Hill.

When they had finally figured it out it had been far too late, the only thing to do now was to run for cover, less they be ravaged.

For three days Pyramid Head himself, the big bad villain, the guilt, lust, and all possible evil feelings of all the people who ventured into Silent Hill, had sat in the basement of the hospital, the door locked and bolted while he hid from these horrendous creatures.

He had counted down his options from the first moment they had invaded, bringing their 'original' SH t-shirts and bobble headed dolls of characters, all being equipped with internet accessible laptops to read the latest "PH" fan fiction.

And after all of this time, he had finally come to the conclusion that he was absolutely doomed.

Doomed, with no chance of escape.

DOOMED!!!

What may you ask these creatures of the darkest and possibly the most terrifying things in the world of Silent Hill is?

Did you guess it right?

Are you sure…?

That's right…fan girls…

He certainly couldn't take down all of them; they were like little cockroaches, harder to kill than one that was for sure. When one was taken down another squealing one would take her bubble-headed place, attaching herself to him like a leach, her legs locked around his body or legs as she gushed on and on about how much she utterly loved him, wanted to marry him, thought he was hot (which was kind of weird because his face wasn't visible to judge on the hotness…but maybe they just like the mystery of it or something) or the classic (equally annoying) "can I have you autograph!?"

The first time he had seem one of the hideous things had been one of the most awful moments of his life.

There he had been in the hospital hallway, innocently prancing after the psychotic-and-ever-so-cute-when-he's-frightened-to death-of-having-a-giant-sword-shoved-up-where-the-sun-doesn't-shine James, along with that stupid Maria slut, who held onto _his _James like she was practically going to attempt to rape him even though they were running for their lives, dragging his great knife in an effort to finally put the hoe down.

Just as he had gotten near the elevator and FINALLY the woman had gotten stuck outside of the elevator, away from James, he raised his knife, preparing to FINALLY get her, when he felt something bump into him, making him fall off balance and fall to the ground in a heap due to the weight of his sword going all to one side.

He tried to hurry back up, but by the time he got back up the elevator door opened, letting Maria in and letting the hoe escape from his grasp one again.

"OH MY GAWD!" He heard a squeal from the direction in which he was bumped, the squealing ringing even through the metal encasing on his head, reaching his ears where it rang like someone had just had a tap-dancing lesson his head.

Furiously, he turned towards whoever made that horrendous noise.

"GIRLS, GIRLS, OMG, OMG, I FOUND HIM!!! OVER HERE!!!" The creature in question squealed in excitement, a blonde haired young teenage girl with braces, a bouncy ponytail and a red-from-excitement face.

And then they appeared like the little roaches crawling into darkness that they were, screaming with excitement that made him want to kill them for just living…and letting that slut escape with JAMES. The hallway crowded up, looking like a red-carpet event for Zac Efron, thousands of young pubescent and pimple-faced girls beginning to crowd around him.

Before they attacked.

One attached herself to his leg, like a suction cup, rattling off things that she loved about him, before another got onto his arm, causing him to drop the great knife.

He suddenly felt his clothes being pulled off too, his great knife being pulled away by about twenty fan girls before they all jumped onto him at one, smothering him in fangirlish love.

He thought for a moment he was going to die, before suddenly he shoved the girls off, taking a run for the elevator in much the same way that Maria and James had earlier, much quicker without the great knife by his side.

Almost immediately the girls took off after him, one almost getting into the elevator as he furiously pressed the buttons for the basement, desperate.

For once in his life he was scared shitless.

He had been unarmed, scared shitless, and was about to be raped by a pack of rabid fan girls.

That is how he came to be locked here, in the hospital basement, rocking slowly back and forth as he listened to the fan girls from above, hoping to whatever god their might be that they wouldn't find him.

It was only a matter of time…

And then they came.

*****

**_One Month Later…_**

"Now, tell us about yourself Mr.…" The woman glanced at her pad of paper. "Pyramid head, is it?"

"Yes, that's right." The metal-masked traumatized man said in a sulky voice. Around his was a circle of people, some listening intently to what the woman in the middle said and some not.

"And can you tell us your version of why you were sent to this session of therapy?" The woman asked again, nodding her head towards him.

"Well, Doc, I just…" He began, but the woman interrupted him.

"You can just call me Angie instead of Doctor, Pyramid Head; I'm your friend as well as your psychiatrist, you can open up to me, you can open up to all these people, they have gone through the same thing as you." She said in a 'comforting' voice, scooting her chair over to put her arm around Pyramid Head's shoulders in a 'comforting' manner.

"Fangirls…attacked…I never thought it would happen to me, ya know? I saw those 'Fangirl's Gone Wild' videos on real life television…but I just never thought I was popular enough to be…" Pyramid Head cut off, his voice choking up. "How could this happen to me?"

"We're all here for you Pyramid, why, didn't you have that same experience just recently, Walter?" She asked, directing this question towards the serial killer who sat in the far corner of the room, his blonde head of hair lowered.

"…"

"Walter?" Dr. Martinez asked, moving toward the suddenly depressed looking blonde male.

"I want my mommy…!" Walter suddenly said, bursting out in tears, to which the doctor once again rubbed his back 'comfortingly.'

"We're going to get through this together, everyone!" The doctor said cheerfully.

"..."

It was then that Pyramid Head concluded he was truly…

…in hell.

Therapy Hell.

**THE ENDXXX :D**

**NOTE: Like I said, this was crappy and short. Hope you at least got one laugh out of it though. XD**

**NEXT DRABBLE: ALEX & WALTER**


	3. Lost

**SUGGESTED/ COTRIBUTED BY: Sarah (Sarah, thank you for suggesting this topic. It was very challenging to have to think up a situation in which Alex and Walter could meet and make it slightly interesting. Please enjoy.)**

AlexXWalter

________________

_Summary: Alex is killed at the end of SH: Homecoming by the last boss. He returns to SH in his death, where he meets a strange man._

__________________

The end came quickly enough.

Alex had failed, and along with his failure came a sense of hopelessness that encompassed his whole being, spreading like a poisonous substance within him.

He had tried to save Josh…Josh…Josh…Josh…

It had always been about Josh, his little brother, the only one in his mind when he went through that hell that had turned into Shepherd's Glen, along with Silent Hill, always just out of reach.

Slipping around darkened corners, leaving those macabre drawings to remind and taunt Alex of his presence…to try to remind him of the guilt…the horrible, horrible feeling of shame and remorse that he had once forgotten, ashamed, and it had all been for nothing.

That thing he had seen in the darkness hadn't been Josh, never had been, from the moment that dream had come, a dream of hospitals and Robbie the Rabbit…Josh was…dead.

Josh was gone, buried so deeply in a place that not even Alex, no matter how much he had wanted, could reach.

He had realized that before the end had come, the truth hitting him fully in the face with extraordinary clarity.

The end.

That one single moment of pure lucidity and peace.

The moment he had looked at the name…the moment he had opened that door…the moment he had discovered the creature that held his brother within its womb…

He had tried to save Josh, but he had failed.

Just like he had failed everything else in his life.

Failed to fulfill the promise made to the gods, failed his father…even…failed….Josh.

Always failed Josh.

And, in the end, Alex found all of it quite funny in a depressing way. The creature that housed his brother had killed him as well…a fitting end. After all…wasn't he the one himself who had sentenced his brother to his own death?

And all over that petty argument. All because Josh was the favored child. All because of that damned ring. Useless.

Yes, it was fitting to be killed by an artificial figment of the very one who he had laid to death, that person who he searched so long for, that person who he called his younger brother, and more importantly, one of the people whom he loved most in the world.

There wasn't any pain when the end came though, strangely enough.

It was more of a sensational of falling, wind rippling through his ears and the sight of a grained whiteness in his eyes.

Then the black came.

*****

Alex Shepherd awoke in a dreadfully familiar place.

And he knew after that awakening that Judge Margaret Holloway was probably spinning in her grave with laughter right at this moment.

_"…nobody ever really leaves this place." _The woman had once said to him with a fake smile pasted on her too-pale face, concerning her daughter. And for the moment Alex had to curse at how utterly right the damned woman was.

When he opened his eyes, he first saw the fog, that gray and unstable substance that floated in a large commodity in the accursed place. So familiar…but this familiarity gave him no comfort, it just made him restless and distressed.

At first he had screamed, cried, even begged for this to be a dream.

It hadn't been a dream though…unfortunately enough.

It took a while to accept it.

After all he had gone through, the darkness he had fought and conquered, the grotesque monsters and human beings that he been forced to kill, all in the sake of finding _him. _And…he…hadn't.

He had walked down the street after that, alone in the fog, depressed.

Walked and walked until he didn't even register where he was anymore, though he could see a lake from faraway.

Bad memories in liquid form.

"Alex!" He heard someone shout from nearby, a voice he knew all too well.

"Elle…" He whispered as the woman came from the fog, smiling directly at Alex. "Elle…why are you here, what happened?"

"It's ok, Alex, I know you tried." The woman said with a bit of sadness in her tone.

"What do you mean by that?" He asked.

"You know we are dead Alex." Elle said with a hint of smile at his foolishness, softly placing her hand on his shoulder. It felt the same…soft and comforting, how could they be dead?

"Dead…" He whispered remorsefully, feeling hotness on his face. At the initial impact of the hot wetness, he raised his hand up to his face, brushing trembling fingers over it. "Elle…oh god…I'm so sorry, I tried…I really did…what happened to you? Where's Wheeler?"

"Alex…I…it just didn't work out." She shook her head slowly, blonde hair dancing delicately over her face. "Wheeler's not here either though…"

"I'm…I'm so sorry Elle…" He croaked out, feeling the tears come even faster. It was the first time he had cried in so long, even through those hard times he hadn't shed a tear. And now all of the sadness seemed to unleash in him.

"Alex, its fine…I'm with Nora now, we're together again." She said with an almost happy expression, before looking back into the fog, presumably in the direction her younger sister laid. "I can't stay long; I have to go back to her…have you found Josh yet?"

"…I don't think he would be in this place." Alex whispered, and as soon as the words left his lips he felt that they were true.

"Maybe you're right." She said with another achingly sad smile directed towards Alex. "There are a lot of other people here though. Maybe he could be…"

"Elle…"

"Goodbye Alex." She whispered, disappearing.

"Elle, wait! Please don't leave!" He shouted to ears that weren't listening, watching as his childhood friend disappeared into the thick fog that clouded his vision. And once again, he allowed the tears to come and wash away the pain.

And once again he was alone.

*****

What was days and felt like years passed for Alex.

He wandered the streets of Silent Hill as if he were lost, his feet taking him to places that he didn't even realize he was at until he took a moment to look around.

He never did find Josh, nor did he see Elle, though he did find other people.

On the third day of his imprisonment into the purgatory that was Silent Hill, he found himself inside of Brookhaven hospital, winding around the halls as if lost in a daze, the darkness of the hallways not fearful like they used to be, but comforting. There were no monsters here, in purgatory, there wasn't much of anything. So maybe that contributed to it.

As he passed in one of the hallways, lost in his thoughts, he heard a cough from one of the rooms, startling him. He went into that room, only to see a woman with light brown hair, pink blouse, and a flowered skirt lying upon a bed, sleeping it seemed. Her features calm and relaxed, he decided not to bother her.

She had been the very first person he had encountered.

The second one had been at another place, another time, a brown haired man who wore a bloodied coat, his eyes soft as he said only one word, "Cheryl." He had seen him on the streets of Silent Hill, completely ignoring him altogether.

He met others, though he never spoke to them whatsoever. He preferred it that way, alone in his solitude.

However, there was a day when that changed.

It was one like any other, nothing special or grand marking the entrance to a new spectator in his life, but it happened never-the-less.

He had been at Toluca Lake, staring out at the very waters that had put him in this place, the waters that had taken the life of his brother all those years before....

His eyes were hard as he looked at the water before him, the moisture flapping gently to the surface and fog billowing in.

He remembered that night when he looked out at the water…the sound of Josh's neck as it hit the side of the wooden boat, cracking and crunching the bone…the fear he felt making him run to his father…the look on his father's face as he had yelled at him after fishing Josh's corpse from the cold and unforgiving lake, yelling, _"You've messed everything up!" _

_…_and finally the total disbelief he had felt when he realized he had unintentionally killed his only brother. His baby brother, the little dweeb who had needed him to check for monsters under bed and ghosts in the closet.

Bad memories…

"Are you lonely?" He suddenly heard a childish voice ask, starling him out of his thoughts. He looked down, only to see a light haired little boy in a striped shirt, staring with big, sad green eyes up at him. "It's ok if you are, I am too. I can't find mommy either…"

"What…what are you doing here…?" Alex asked, surprised. His voice scratched painfully from misuse, making him wince.

"I…I'm looking…but there ain't nothing here!" The little boy said indignantely, moving back a few paces from Alex, shooting the man a glare.

"Oh…" Alex said softly, his voice sounding a bit better, before he began walking away from the boy. But the little squirt continued to follow him.

"Hey! You didn't answer me!" The boy shouted, grabbing a hold of Alex's with fervor, looking up with those leaf green eyes again daringly.

"What…?" Alex murmured wearily, turning to look at the boy.

"I said…" The boy pronounced slowly, as if Alex himself were a child. "Are you lonely?"

"Lonely…? Yeah…I guess…" Alex replied, looking out to Toluca Lake again. "Who are you?"

"Walter Sullivan is my name…but it's not my real name…it's just something they gave to me…" The boy replied, still looking up at Alex with a screwed up look on his face, as if he were confused.

"Oh." Alex replied inadequately, his face turning to examine the ground with interest, before he felt the hand let go of his hand, going to touch his cheek gently before it vanished, making Alex slowly lift his head with a frown.

When he looked up again, the boy was gone.

*****

Alex didn't know if it was some sort of habit or just an obligation he felt, but every day after his meeting with the small boy, he would walk by Toluca Lake, hoping that the boy would be there again.

He knew he would be there, of course he wouldn't, but every time he came, he would carefully examine the area for any sign of the boy.

He felt guilty he hadn't asked to help the kid find his mother, he regretted letting the kid get away.

What if the boy had gotten hurt?

Was he ok?

Had he found his mom?

Alex was plagued with these questions worrying for the young boy's safety for some inexplicable reason.

Like right now, he sat on the bank of Toluca, laying in the grass and staring sleepily out to the lake, his mind dripped in those insufferable questions, until he saw movement from the corner of his eye, sitting up to look around and see the movement again.

"Hello…Walter?" He asked thin air, until he saw the movement again, though it wasn't Walter, as he had thought.

"Hello." A man said pleasantly, his voice as rough as the tree he hid behind, just the barest hint of blue coming out from behind the tree.

"Oh…hello, sorry, I thought you were someone else." Alex said, standing up so he could properly meet the man, although the man in question made no move to get out from behind the tree trunk.

"I see…" The man said again, a smile in his voice. "You come here every day, so I thought I would say hello."

"Oh…well…" Alex fumbled, making no move towards the man, slight weary. "I'm Alex, and you are…?"

"Nobody important, Alex." The man replied back, his voice causing shivers to run up Alex's spine the way that man said his name…with such…familiarity, although it wasn't an unpleasant shiver.

"Have you…have you seen a little boy around here lately, sir?" Alex suddenly asked uncertainly, raising a hand to rub his neck.

"No." The man replied easily, moving a bit from behind his spot as if uncomfortable, allowing Alex to catch sight of some blonde hair. "But…I've saw you."

"Oh?" Alex asked, walking closer to the truck of the tree, only to see the man move once again.

Alex frowned.

"What are you doing here?" Alex suddenly demanded.

"The same things as you…" The man replied vaguely, a pale hand becoming visible as the man reached around the truck, showing a hint of dirtied nails.

"What do you mean by that?" Alex questioned, suddenly feeling his guard raise up, becoming wary.

"For the cause…" The man said with what seemed to be a hint of confusion in his voice, as if Alex should have already known this information.

"The cause?" Alex shook his head forcefully, denying without words what the man said. "All I know is that I was killed…by that…thing…and I ended up here…"

"Ahhh…you're one of the sacrifices." The man said wistfully with a hint of sudden comprehension.

And then he moved out from behind the bark, coming face to face with Alex with a slight smile that seemed misplaced on his face, which was covered slightly by strands of dirty blonde hair. His eyes were a bright color of green, almost like a leaf in the springtime and such a familiar pair of eyes…

"Wha…" Alex breathed out as the man moved closer, seeming to take forceful steps towards him before taking a hold of his jaw, tilting his head to examine his face.

"I remember you…" The man cooed, letting go of Alex's face as the man forcefully pulled his chin away, glaring at the strange blue-coated man.

"Impossible…I've never met you…." Alex said with authority, somehow feeling that the statement was not quite right. His eyes were familiar…but where could he have met this man? He certainly hadn't met him before coming to this place, of that he was absolutely sure.

"You'll remember too, if you think really hard." The man said with a flash of white teeth, an amused look on his face, his stooped and slightly larger bulk towering over Alex before he turned around and lifted a hand up in a silent wave of goodbye.

"Hey!" Alex yelled without effect, watching again as someone walked away from him.

What had just happened?

*****

"Why do you always look out to the water as if it has done something horrible?"

"Because it has." Alex replied.

"Oh…" The unnamed man said from his spot beside him, sitting on the edge of the water where Alex had taken root, his blue coat dragging ever-so-slightly in the muddied water.

Again the man had come when Alex had gone to Toluca, bothering him with his inexplicable presence. He had showed up as if in thin air and usually disappeared the same way.

"Are you lonely?" The mysterious man suddenly asked in a saddened tone, causing Alex to look over at him, surprise.

*****

"Sometimes." Alex said suddenly, cracking a smile.

"Me too." Walter replied with a smile that matched the younger man's own.

"Not now though."

The only way you can be lonely is if you're with someone you don't like.

**Another Short and Crappy Drabble ****L Please forgive me! And if you like it ^.^, then great!**

**NEXT DRABBLE: ALEX & JAMES**


	4. Family Secrets

Alex/James Drabble

**SUGGESTED/CONTRIBUTED BY: Ezmy (**Gave me an excuse to quit being lazy and try something with James XD. I love him as a character, but can't really write about him very easily without encouragement. Thank you for your contribution, please feel free to suggest anything else.)

*****

_Summary: Alex X James At a family reunion, James watches a mysterious boy from afar who he won't soon forget. _

_*****_

The first time he met the boy was at Mary's family reunion.

She had begged him profusely to go with her, as always.

Of course it had worked; James agreed soon after, to go with her to her native town, to meet her family. Something he had never done before, a new experience, if you were to ask Mary about the subject.

It made her happy though, so who was he to refuse?

That's what he always told himself. Whatever pleased Mary was best, he loved her; she deserved everything in the world. She was one of the most deserving people that he knew. He loved her…

"Oh, James, you'll love them, I'm sure, and they'll love you as well." Mary gushed when they arrived at the dreaded meeting place, James catching sight of many parked cars and children running around in flocks, playing.

"I hope so." He whispered back, smiling and kissing the tip of his wife's nose, looking at her beautiful face. And he felt nothing.

_"I love her." _He reminded himself, gently smiling into Mary's eyes before offering one of his arms to her, like a perfect gentleman to lead her into the house in which the reunion was taking place, a large brown oak house with a gazebo riding around the back, the sound of people inside the house echoing from inside the interior of the house.

As soon as he and Mary arrived at the door, they were completely swamped by family members.

"Oh Mary, you look so good! And is this the husband you were talking about?"

"Mary! So nice to see you, how long have you been gone, five years?"

"I see you've finally brought your renowned husband for us to meet, James, was it?"

The questions just continued to come, flooding in what seemed to be a never-ending flow, making James feel very uncomfortable. He was a naturally shy person and didn't exactly like when attention was focused on him in large commodities. But he endured it, because Mary seemed to be enjoying the attention from her family, hugging even tighter to his arm in pride as she chatted with her family members, laughing at a joke one of the younger teenagers told.

Soon though, Mary loosened her grip on his arm, suddenly seeming to not care so much for showing him off and more for speaking to her long-absent family members, a beautiful smile on her face.

And still…he felt…nothing.

What was wrong with him?

He loved her, in his own crude fashion that was for sure.

Why when he looked at his wife, her smiling beautiful face and happiness did he feel nothing whatsoever?

James pondered this occurrence, feeling put-out as Mary completely tuned him out, happily in her own world. And with a slight frown, he walked outside, sitting on the porch steps and fumbling in his green jacket for a lighter, pulling out a cigarette along with the flame-inducer before something caught his eye.

Across the yard, near the fence, a game of baseball was going on. A younger boy with brown hair played his face young and full of energy. But that wasn't exactly what caught his attention; instead, it was another person.

This person was a boy that looked a bit older, at least thirteen years old; he looked so much like the younger that James suspected them to be brothers though.

The older boy wasn't involved in the ball game that was currently going on, instead he watched with grayish blue eyes as the younger and a group of children played, seeming to take no interest in participating. He was sitting on the farthest side of the yard, his back leaning on the back of the fence as he watched on with a slight frown.

For a moment, James simply stared in curiosity, the cigarette that he had been lifting to his mouth stopping suddenly, his mouth open as if he were about to place the stick into his mouth.

Suddenly, the boy looked his way, towards his spot on the porch, those steely grayish eyes seeming to drill through James, before the younger boy slightly smiled at James in mirth, giving a slight wave of acknowledgement.

James, becoming unfrozen from the trance he had been stuck in smiled back, sticking two fingers up to signal hello.

"Alex! Alex, why aren't you watching me play?" James suddenly heard a childish question, causing the pretty boy to turn back to the person who asked it.

Wait…did he just think that the boy was pretty? What was he, like…ten years older than him? And since when had he thought a man was "pretty"?

Shaking his head to clear himself of these distracting thoughts, James watched as this boy… "Alex" turned back to the boy who looked so similar to him with a smile, giving the younger boy thumbs up.

James felt slightly bitter as the boy turned his attention back to the younger brother for some unknown reason…

The rest of the reunion passed quickly for James, his wife suddenly remembering she even HAD a husband, and coming outside to find him, where he still sat and watched the mysterious boy, scolding him for leaving her side.

"So, how did you like my family?" Mary asked playfully as they drove away from the house, her face in that same smile that made him feel absolutely nothing.

"…they were great." He said in a monotone, still thinking of the boy from earlier, though he couldn't quite say _why _the image of that boy would stay with him…

And for the first time in a while, he felt something.

**NEXT: Henry X Walter **


	5. Doll

**SUGGESTED/CONTRIBUTED BY: Carneeval **(I was WAITING for someone to request this pairing. I think HenryxWalter is so cute~! Thank you so very much! XD)

_*****_

_Summary: Take on the "doll scene" from SH4 between Walter and Henry. Slight yaoi._

_*****_

"…_Eileen, don't look at him like that…" The young girl's mother whispered urgently, tugging on the young girl's hand._

_The child only smiled, looking at the "him" her mother had been talking about, taking in the dirty clothes and huddled figure._

"_Why not, mommy?" The girl asked with only what seemed to be curiosity, shaking off her mother's hand that was gripped tightly onto her own tinier hand, making her way towards the dirtied blonde man, who looked at the girl cagily._

"_Why are you sleeping her? Aren't you cold?" The girl asked with what seemed to be genuine puzzlement, her eyes looking worriedly at the young man._

_The man looked at confused, wondering why the small girl was talking to him. He certainly hadn't ever seen her before…_

"_Eileen! Don't talk to him!" The worried mother yelped, dragging the younger girl back towards her tenaciously._

"_Mommy, he's cold here. Can't you see that…?" The girl whined towards her mother, before reaching into the cute little pink bag that lay on her side, fishing in the bag for something before she seemed to find what she was looking for, pulling it out with a triumphant smile._

"_You can sleep with her." She murmured, handing a small, clothed-stuffed doll to the dirtied man, her eyes sparkling as she handed over her most treasured doll._

_The man hesitated a moment, looking uncertainly at the doll before taking it in his hands, looking it over as if it were some foreign object._

"_Eileen, let's go home." The older version of the girl said with a sigh, her mother. "It's Daddy's birthday today. You know that. Daddy is waiting for you." _

"_Ok, mommy…" The girl said happily, turning towards her mother's warm body before looking back at the dirty man with sparkling eyes. "Bye-bye!"_

_The child and mother both turned back around, leaving the man to watch as they walked away. They looked…so happy…_

_The man looked down at the doll in his hands, and felt silent tears begin to trace dirty paths down his cheek, unstoppable._

"_Mommy, do you think Daddy will like this?" He heard the child ask from faraway, her voice so innocent that it sickened him._

"_Of course, he will. He will love it because you chose it." Her mother assured her in a loving voice._

_The man was left alone again._

_*****_

He remembered those events with a certain amount of bitterness.

Even now, as he looked down at that doll, plopped down on the stairway up his precious mother, he felt that bitterness rise like bile.

Just moments earlier he had nearly been able to fulfill the 20th sacrament, that girl…Eileen Galvin, until his younger had interrupted him, the very one who gave this accursed doll, which reminded him with simply it's presence that he was completely alone.

And yet he had kept it all these years…

Looking down at the doll for a moment, he examined once again its cotton surface, running his fingers over the faded dress before slightly sighing, hanging his head down, lifting it up again as he heard the sound of footsteps from the direction of Miss Galvin's room. He didn't look up though from the spot he stared at the floor, he already knew exactly who it was.

Those footsteps came closer, tentatively stepping onto the stairs before the person very close to his side, on the steps right next to him, a curious yet frightened stare given his way.

Hummm…

The man didn't speak as he simply watched Walter solemnly, his hold on the baseball bat in his hand tightening in what seemed to be wariness..

"I got this from Miss Galvin…" Walter began, taking a moment to peek up at the solemn face of his Receiver. "A long, long time ago."

Walter paused for a moment, taking a minute to look down at the doll before back at Henry Townshend.

"She was younger than me back then…" He said with a slight smile, taking in the Receiver's confused expression for a moment, the younger of the two backing up on the stairs a bit.

The Receiver looked quite perturbed at his way of wording, a slight frown that somehow still made him look attractive pulling down his lips. His brows furrowed in concentration as he simply stared intently at Walter with those green, green eyes.

Walter like the Receiver best when he looked that way…

Perturbed.

Scared.

Disturbed.

Any of those were satisfying.

But he wondered…how would Henry look when smiling?

Could he even make him smile at all if they had met in different circumstances? What would even make him happy?

Contemplating this strange train of thoughts, Walter absently set the doll on the stair, beckoning to his Receiver.

"Here, I'll give it to you." He whispered, watching the play of emotions on the younger man's face as he looked skeptically at Walter's offering.

For a moment, everything was still; the Receiver staying rooted on his stop on the stairs, before a trembling hand made way to Walter's vision, his Receiver's hand gingerly picking up the doll that Walter had offered.

His Receiver then took a moment to run his eyes over the doll curiously, before those eyes came back to rest on Walter.

"_Pretty, pretty jade eyes." _Walter though idly as he took a moment to look up at the Receiver, catching those eyes on him.

And the Receiver then did something that surprised Walter; he reached down and slightly touched his fingertips to Walters's shoulder, before slowly making his ways back up the stairs, leaving Walter alone once again.

Once left alone, the blonde man quietly touched his shoulder, trying to retain that single moment of warmth before detaching himself from those emotions, simply staying seated on the staircase, before standing up and pulling his gun slowly out from his jacket, preparing himself for what was to come, with only one thought in mind.

For his mother, for his Receiver.

"_I wish that you could show me love."_

*****

**Geez…I feel like that was crappier than I wanted it to be…*bummed*. But, anyway, please tell me what you think. Maybe ya'll think differently than I do. I will probably do another Walter/Henry thing later when I run out of requests though…I love the pairing and this story simply doesn't do them justice *in my opinion*.**


	6. Arms of God

**Suggested/Contributed by: Tony Branston **(thank you for the contribution!)

*****

Summary: _ Darkness consumes sometimes even what is innocent._

_*****_

Characters: _Laura and Claudia_

It was hard to accept sometimes…

…that she...

…that Mary was truly gone.

She knew she was though, in the back of her head, deep down in the pit that had slowly began to form in her aching heart.

There was no presence of Mary in this place, in Silent Hill, any longer.

Just an empty-promised letter…and somewhere that man who had dared to call himself Mary's "husband", wherever he had gone…she hated him.

At first when coming to this place she had been filled with hope…and memories. Memories of the soft touch and kindness that Mary had bestowed upon her in those long hours in St. Jerome's hospital, until Mary had gotten even sicklier…angrier…and had been deemed a useless cause by the doctor's who were supposed to tend to her, give their best to make her better…

Mary had always talked about it here, made this place sound like magic to the much younger Laura…that's why that had put her in Brookhaven's institution in the first place anyway, so she could spend her last moments in the comfort that Silent Hill seemed to bestow upon her and have the help she needed.

And now Laura was here in that very place that haunted her dreams, having caught a ride from that man Eddie after stealing Mary's letter out of Rachel's locker.

Finding some proof of the woman still nearby…

It had been hard to accept then too…that Mary was going to…die.

And in the end she hadn't even died from her sickness, it had been her "husband" whom she loved so much that had been her end. If she even believed that…that…disgusting man. She wouldn't put it past him…

And it was all just so…so…unfair.

Mary had been the only one to love her.

She had been an orphan; sick, alone, and scared, and Mary had been there for her. And she had been so lonely.

All alone…god…it was awful to be alone…

The most awful thing though...was that Mary had actually _wanted_ her. Now…there was nothing left.

Even after realizing that she was gone, after finding her way into Mary's hotel room with her husband only to hear the cruel truth of what _he _had done, Laura lingered in the sacred ground that was Silent Hill, hoping to find scraps of Mary's presence, desperate and in denial.

Laura wandered around this beautiful place, her eyes lingering on every object of the abandoned town, fingers skimming the walls she walked by as an absent gesture, her eyes dull and empty. She saw everything in front of her, and yet she saw absolutely nothing, like her eyes were glass, that reflected what was before her, but didn't ever take anything in.

Like another one of the many ghost of Silent Hill, she stayed, yet didn't.

She was there, but wasn't.

It was like purgatory. Like being in heaven, while feeling the flames of hell upon the tips of your feet.

But, as things would go, she tired of simply becoming the movement, and she despaired, alone again; collapsed in a broken and unusable pile of muscle and bones upon the sidewalk, the cold…oh the cold…it swept into her bones, chilling her soul. And with one broken sob, she laid her hands upon her knees and began to cry.

Tears, wet with sorrow and anger, dripped down her reddened face, landing on the concrete beneath her with a plop. An offering to the gods of this damned place, this beautifully ugly place.

She cried until she felt like her insides were coming apart from within, burning her lugs, gasps escaping her mouth. And when she finished with the useless and bitter tears, she began screaming. Screamed until her throats ached terribly, clutched her long blonde strands of hair between her fingers and tugged, pulling, and ripping the clutches out of her head in furious abandon.

The pain only fueled her anger.

And in her anger, she cursed that man, cursed that fool James with every foul word she had ever heard, every explicit term that could force between her numb lips, teeth clenched as she imagined kicking him in his stupid face.

_And Laura, about James... I know you hate him because you think he isn't nice to me, but please give him a chance. _

_It's true he may be a little surly sometimes, and he doesn't laugh much…_

…_but underneath he's really a sweet person._

It hurt to remember that letter; it hurt to look at those words…to know that someone had cared for her, only for their life to be snuffed out by someone who wasn't even worth the dirt beneath Mary's foot.

"Why…why do things…always have to…to end this way…?" She questioned hollowly, tears gone and throat husky and sore.

She hadn't expected for this question to be answered, but the gods of Silent Hill were smiling upon the young child, or maybe frowning upon her. Not that we will ever know…but the girl did receive her answer.

"Put your pains and sorrows into that of god, and it will be absolved dear child. Fill her hands with your troubles and they will be taken away." A voice answered, footsteps making there way to Laura before an arm reached out to lightly touch the girl's small, lightly shaking shoulders.

Laura started at the touch at first, tensing at the initial meeting of flesh on cloth. She relaxed however, as the warmth from the person in question flooded through her shoulder, so…comforting…so…familiar in a peculiar sort of way.

It chased the coldness away. That chill that made her bones so stiff…so frigid that she couldn't even move from this place…

"A child such as you should be absent of all worries and stress of life…tell me child, what is your name?" The woman's voice asked kindly, causing Laura to look up, to finally take a look at the woman.

The woman had a strange sort of calmness and serenity of her image. Blond hair cut severely to her shoulders lay on her face, her eyes a light almost translucent shade of blue with a sharp nose placed in the middle of her face. She was immaculately groomed though, with a prim and proper black dress on, buttoned up all the way to where her chin met her neck. She looked so…strange.

"What's it to you?" Laura asked suspiciously, wiping her runny nose on the sleeve of her striped shirt.

"I'm Claudia, and your name would be beneficial as well." The woman replied dryly, raising her eyebrows at the rude tone that Laura was using.

"I don't like my name." She replied spitefully.

"You have eyes that burn child." The woman said with a slight laugh. An unused laugh that sounded forced and raw…rough. It wasn't natural for this woman to laugh and was actually slightly unsettling. "Eyes that cleanse, and seem to look into the soul…please tell me your name, it's imperative."

"My names Laura…weird lady." Laura replied grudgingly, staring at the woman with those suspicious, those eyes that the woman claimed burned.

"And you're looking for someone, dear child?" The woman, Claudia asked.

"Uh-hum…yes…I'm looking for her…I don't think she's here…how did you know anyway?" The girl asked suspiciously, a little hope clawing at her. Maybe this woman had seen her…seen Mary…

"The souls of those who have lost their way always return." The woman replied. "And those with impurities of the soul are called here also, to face their own hell. The blood of criminals…boils in its attraction to this holy ground."

"I don't understand…" Laura admitted grumpily, sneaking a look at the strange woman.

"As you shouldn't, child…you are yet pure of heart." Claudia replied, turning her icy blue eyes to the girl, placing a hand on the girls head.

"Pure…of…heart…?"

"You see none of the impurities of this place, do you?" The woman asked in a bored tone, setting her hand down and stepping away from Laura, the tail of her dress swishing as she moved.

"You…you…do you know where Mary is?!" Laura suddenly yelled, standing up and pointing an accusing finger at this…woman.

"She is in the embrace of god, Sister Laura." Claudia replied, crinkling her nose in disgust. "As you should be as well, as we all should be…this world is…sickening...rotten to the core.

"Is she happy now…with god?" Laura asked in childish curiosity, looking intently at the woman now, her eyes wide in expectation of the answer.

"Very happy, as she would want you to also be." The older woman smiled. "Why don't you come with me? I'm sure Mary would want you to…"

"You think so?" Laura asked a bit skeptically.

"To be blessed by god, and taken under her hand, I'm sure that any mother would want this for her child."

"Mother…?" Laura whispered quietly. "Mary…would want that for me…if she was my mother?"

"Yes." Claudia replied.

"O…ok…" Laura finally caved, taking a hold of the woman's offered hand gently, feeling the security that came with touching another living person's skin…the warmth…the intimacy…the….almost love.

And with that the two women, one child and one adult walked towards the direction of the church of Silent Hill, the fog covering their presence as if they had never been.

Perhaps they never were.


	7. Hope for the Future

_Author's Note: I'm not good at portraying Elle/Alex, I just had an idea in my head and figured this would be done the most quickly. Give me a break and keep suggesting!_

_Suggested/Contributed by: Ravenheart3 (thank you for your contribution, Ravey. :D)_

The road away from the nightmare that had been Shepherd's Glen was a harsh one.

They'd gotten away, and yet they hadn't…Elle could see that now. The nightmare…never really ended really. She could hold him now…touch Alex and try to protect him…

…from everything but himself.

His mind…his subconscious…giving him those aches and pains.

And it pained her to see his grief, his guilt, his overpowering self-hatred.

She couldn't bear to lay beside him at night, kiss his lips and exchange quiet whispers of love into the air, only to know that later she would wake to his screams, his night terrors. His dreams of a boy that was long dead and a place that was filled with only decay and sadness.

He would cry in her arms afterwards. It was hard to watch, so she didn't. She left the lights off, just listened to those quiet sobs, feeling tears plot on the crook of her neck, where Alex rested his face.

Even during their hard times, that long and arduous journey they had faced in the bowels of what could only be called hell, he had never shed a tear in her presence.

Never tried to show weakness.

But then again…he'd had to be strong them. For her, to protect her, and for his brother, to find him.

Obviously some of this precious sentiment that Alex exhibited was useless, because his brother was long dead.

After their escape from Shepherd's Glen, Alex had told her the story. Told her it was his entire fault that his brother was gone, that his brother was dead. It was the first time she had ever saw him cry…the first time she felt completely hopeless and useless really.

She couldn't help him.

Couldn't heal that…raw pain.

She remembered the boy that Alex had once been…

So stubborn…and cute, easy to give grins and for the most part charming. She had really never felt the way about anyone that she felt about Alex. She loved his face, loved the man he changed into. Except that dark part of him…the one that haunted him, haunted her.

"_Elle, this is Alex Shepherd, be nice and play with him, ok?" A younger Margaret Holloway said to her eight year old daughter, gesturing with a smile to a blushing boy who hid behind his tired mother's skirts, his eyes peeking shyly at Elle._

"_Say hello, Alex!" His mother said softly, stepping away from the boy, who in turn stared blankly at the young girl in front of him nervously._

"_H-hi." The boy muttered gruffly, folding his arms._

That moment…was forever ingrained into her memory. It was hard to imagine Alex now as that young and so shy boy. He was so different now…

When first seeing Alex in the hell that was the Glen, Elle had first thought he was an illusion of some kind, missing children blurring her tired eyes.

An angel sent from the depths of hell to help her.

And he had…helped her that is.

Saved her life.

Taken her heart.

"Elle, are you daydreaming again?" A voice asked, making her look into the very face she cherished so dearly.

"No, honey." Elle gave him a smile, her eyes soft as she traced his curious expression, an untouched cup of coffee sitting in front of him on the kitchen table. "Just thinking of the past…and future."

"The past…awful." He picked up the cup, taking a sip before crinkling his nose because it had turned cold.

"Yes…" Elle said, strolling from the entrance of the doorway only to plop herself next to Alex, gently turning his face to look into her eyes. "But the future is looking promising, you know?"

He closed his eyes, smiling and leaning into her touch.

"You think so?"

"I do…"

"Maybe you'll say that soon again." Alex said with a smile, his eyes crinkling as he smiled at her.

"Are you implying that you want to marry me Alex Shepherd?!"

"Not if you keep looking like this in the mornings…" He smiled as he took another sip of coffee.

"Shut up…"

Maybe the future was promising after all…

As long as they were together…she still had hope.


	8. Say Hello!

**Hilarious-Mayhem: **

Hello my beautiful, precious, extraordinary, lovable readers. ^o^

I'm sure we've already become slightly acquainted. But, I actually have two new people to introduce that will be writing some of the suggestions for you from now on.

Recently, I haven't been able to give your suggestions quite as much attention as I wished…so, like any other desperate hobo, I have asked for assistance. My prayers were answered by two very talented fan fiction writers, whose stories I genuinely enjoy.

I believe that they may be able to do more justice to some of your suggestions than I'm able to, hopefully this is the case, because I wish for you all to be happy with the outcomes of your particular requests as individuals.

Now with more writers though, we will be able to accomplish new and improved stories at a faster pace (I'm hoping this is the case, though I'm sure, because I haven't updated in a while .

So, please give a very warm welcome to your new Suggestionista's:

Carneeval and Mantineus!

P.S. Any future fan mail to their stories, please send directly to them as well as reviewing. ^_^

**Carneeval: **

Hello everyone, it's wonderful to have been chosen to help with the  
suggestions! To start with clichés, I will give you my name. I am Abby,  
username being Carneeval,I have been writing fan fictions since most people  
feel the need to change plots and send characters into convoluted situations;  
if you have guessed thirteen then yes, that was when it all began. Fan  
fictions are my way of practicing writing by playing off of other peoples  
plots and characters but bringing in my own sorts of plots as everyone does,  
but I hope someday to produce my own original book that I am working on. Right  
now my obsession obviously lies with the oh so wonderful Silent Hill. If it  
isn't apparent by my fan fictions of the past and right now I love writing  
Henry, even if he isn't an extremely verbal character I find him fascinating.  
It's going to be an interesting venture working with Hilarious-Mayhem and  
Mantineus, who are both spectacular writers and to all those requesting please  
feel free to become as weird as you like with the requests~!

~Abby

* * *

**Mantineus:**

Hello everyone, I'm Jeremy, better known as Mantineus (pronounced Man Tine Us). I've been here since I was a freshman in highschool where I fell in love with the site and had inflicted insomnia upon myself during summer break reading insane amounts of fanfics during that time all the way up till now. And as Carneeval said; I hope to write my own stuff (comics and novels mostly) someday.  
I love writing about people who are classified as insane-as my previous stories will show. But I have been known to dabble in fluff and really creepy stuff. My passion is yaoi/slash fics, but I have been known to write het fics (shows how old I am, huh?). It is a humongous honor to have been chosen as a co-author for Hilarious-Mayhem and work alongside both Mayhem and Carneeval; both of whom are really wonderful writers. I am really excited about working with them.  
And please, feel free to request anything.

Well, there you have it. Your two new author's have been introduced! XD

NOW PLEASE GIVE ME REQUESTS!!!!!


	9. Walter's Prized Possession

Suggested by: 13yn

Written by: Mantineus

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

------ ------

'_The doll._' Walter thought, as he retold the tale to Henry on the stairs leading down to the second floor. '_It all started with a doll._'

It was a plain fabric doll with long, brown hair and a very beautiful blue dress; like a girl's Sunday dress. The face looked as if it were drawn on with a marker instead of being sewn on.

His reason on giving Henry the doll was simple. He figured Henry, whom he knew had a crush on Eileen as well, would take it. Not knowing that it would be his downfall in the incoming battle against the ghosts; thus making sure The 21 Sacraments were fulfilled and he could spend an eternity with Mother and Eileen.

He gently laid in on the step on its back, the head tilted back over the step.

'_What?!_' Walter shouted in his mind. '_He didn't take it?_'

How did that go wrong? He was sure that he did not do anything to give himself away. Yet, how come Henry just walked down the stairs? Walter was stunned, but after a while a gentle smile spread across his face. He would tempt Henry into taking it.

Walter stood up and looked at his prized possession one last time and walked off.

------ ------

Walter stood in the closet as Eileen started to work on some finishing touches to her outfit for the party. Walter sighed quietly, not wanting to startle her. She looked so pretty. In his mind he would walk up to her, wrap his cold, bloody hands around her and lean in, inhaling her scent.

But that could not happen yet. A conversation had to take place first. He only hoped that she would be compliant.

He walked out of the closet and cleared his throat, startling the poor woman whom turned away from her vanity to face the intruder. Her eyes grew in size and Walter swore he could feel her quickening heartbeat. She looked really beautiful in that dress. It brought out her eyes and the lipstick she finished putting on complimented her luscious lips.

"Do not be afraid." Walter said in his calm voice. A voice you got from being mentally cut off from the world as most see it. "I just want to talk right now."

"And what makes you think I'll let you?" She said, sounding really scared.

"I have a proposition for you." He said, choosing his words as best he could. Though he thought stating the obvious would be best.

"I'll scream!" Her voice rose in pitch.

He felt Henry leave this world and head back into Mother in the Other World. He did not worry if she screamed, the room was a part of his world, kept clean of the bloody, rusty walls because she was pure. Unlike the rest of the apartment. That meant that, for the time being, no one but him would hear her scream.

"Just please listen." He said. "I've loved you from when we first met. When you gave me your doll."

She did not seem to understand what he was saying. She had done many great things in her life, why would she remember that one incident when she was young? Walter just tried not to look or sound hurt as he continued.

"I don't want you to be like the others. Please, come with me." He took out his right hand for her to take. "It'll be quick, I promise."

"What will?"

"Your death." He stated, his blank appearance never changed.

She screamed! It was loud and sadly, Walter knew he had to act quickly. He tackled her from behind; the impact broke her arm and gave her beautiful face scrapes and a black eye as he lifted her head at an angle and slammed it back to the ground, discombobulating her. Of which he desired since he did not want her to stop this, nor feel it for very long.

He found the perfect place to carve the numbers, because there the dress would not be ruined. He carved 20121, poised to kill when another's presence from behind him.

It was Little Walter!

'_No!' _Walter thought. '_He has to stay pure!_'

Walter took one good look at his child counterpart and saw the fear in his little eyes.

'_Has he been here the entire time?_' He asked himself, but shook his head. '_No matter. No permanent harm done, anyway._'

Walter sighed and kneeled before her and leaned over her, his mouth just above an ear, his long, blonde hair covering them as he told her a new rule.

"How about this." He whispered. "I'll spare you this time and let you get to know me better like I know you. Granted, not everything you'll learn will be pleasant. But then again, neither will your escort." He smirked at that. "But one thing is for certain. You _will _love me."

He placed a chaste kiss on her temple. "Now, I want you to forget our little talk. Just let me do the rest."

And with that, he left the room, leaving Little Walter and Eileen behind for Henry; the man he was willing to let guard his beloved until it was time.

------ ------

Walter walked down the stairs in the Apartment World when he felt something soft connect with his shoe. Curious, he looked down and saw that he stepped on the doll.

Walter smiled, bent over, and picked it up. Despite the fact that his plan failed and Henry did not take it, Walter was happy. He clung onto the doll as if it were the world and sighed contently and with relief for a stress he did not know he had. For, despite his reservations, he truly treasured the doll his love gave to him. He did not have to fear being parted from his greatest treasure.


	10. Scarlet Memories

Suggested by: Vampuric Spider

Written by: Hilarious-Mayhem

Pairing: Scarlet X PH

_******_

_The founders, they had good intentions. They left the Order to start a new life in Shepherd's Glen. But they feared the wrath of our God, so they made a pact to keep us safe. All that was required was a small sacrifice... our children. Once every 50 years the founding families must make an offering to appease the god. One of our children, our own flesh and blood, struck down by our own hands. I did what was required. I watched the light fade from Nora's eyes as I took her life... Knowing that her death would protect our family, protect Shepherd's Glen. –Judge Holloway_

_******_

She was alone in the darkness.

It was always so dark.

"Daddy? Where are you daddy? Why did you hurt me?"

But she still had her dolls. Her beautiful dolls...

"_You still love me, don't you?" The glassy eyes of the doll looked unseeingly back._

"_You are much nicer than all those other kids...you never make fun of me...you always listen..." Scarlet said quietly, looking at the doll within her hands, running her fingers through the thin hair, to the white porcelain of the dolls perfect face._

"_Daddy wants me to look like you, you know that? He wants me to look just like mommy!" She said, smiling sadly. _

"_He said he loves me just as much as mommy, you know...he says maybe even more."_

_Dolly didn't answer._

"_Is that bad, Dolly?" Scarlet asked. "I don't think daddies are supposed to love their little girls like that, are they?" _

_Dolly looked at her with pleading eyes._

"_He said mommy was always pretty, and that I look just like her, so he can't help himself, can't help what he does. That's what he says...I wonder how mommy was though?" She whispered, clutching the doll closer. _

"_I wonder if she's in heaven. That's where daddy says she is, flying up in the clouds."_

_Dolly agreed._

"_That first time daddy did it...he said it would hurt." She whispered. "But he's a doctor, so he can fix me good as new...that's what he said...it still hurts every time...why does he hurt me, Dolly? Do you know if I've been a bad girl? Daddy likes it...does it make me a bad girl for not wanting to make daddy happy?"_

_Dolly looked on with sad eyes._

"_Oh...I love you so much, Dolly. Please don't ever leave me." The girl said, clutching the doll tightly to her._

"_Scarlet?" She heard her bedroom door creak open, that voice resounding through the room._

"_Daddy..." The girl whimpered, curling up in her bed. She held tightly onto Dolly, pushing the doll's face into her pillow, so she wouldn't see. Dolly had to stay pure, she couldn't let Dolly see it...it was dirty, ugly, not for Dolly's eyes._

_It was all a blur._

_Pain._

_Daddy climbing into bed, pulling up the covers and slipping between the sheets._

_Pain._

_Daddy running his hands up her dress, his fingers coming over her chest._

_Pain._

_Daddy pulling up that dress, slipping off his clothes, blood running down the sheets of her bed again._

_Pain._

_Daddy laying on her afterwards, his hands in her hair, running them through as she had to her doll only moments before, whispering things in her ear that hurt to hear._

_The smell of sweat in the air. _

_He's crushing her, and she can't breathe._

_Pain._

"_I'm so sorry, baby." He says, reaching down to grab something. It shines in the dull light._

"_Daddy..?"_

"_I'm sorry..."_

_More blood stains the sheets. _

_Innocence and life taken in one swoop._

_*******_

Blood.

Blood.

Blood.

More.

More Blood.

Give me your blood!

Die!

Guilt...guilt...brother...spider.

Kill.

Kill.

Pain.

Dolly.

Daddy...

I want your suffering.

Your beautiful suffering.

I want to see your pain.

Death.

*******

The scent of blood perforated the air.

She licks her fingers, fangs gliding over the wetness of blood, savoring the taste.

It was so...good.

The coppery taste sliding through her mouth, the taste of her father's blood still infecting her taste buds.

Life, that was the taste.

Vitality.

_*Screeeech*_

That sound...

She turns her head from her prey, her wide mouth sliding shut at this sound.

She would smile if she could.

Her lover has arrived.

_*Screeeech*_

He comes with the darkness that she is so used to.

She feels a twinge of fondness unexplainable as she looks up him, his face covered in iron. Weighed down.

The physical manifestation of guilt that weighs us all down.

Her body shivers in anticipation as he nears, the sword dragging along the floor as he moves to her.

_*Bang*_

The sword is dropped and she is grabbed, crushed against an unmoving body, a cold, freezing hand making its way down her own cold, corpse like body.

The unnatural posture and figure of her body not being lost on those talented fingers that wander so aimlessly across her skin, the touch is cold, just the way she likes it.

A feeling of wetness slides across her neck, the result of her lover's long, lizard-like tongue. The wiggling appendage is making its way from under his unrevealing helmet.

She screeches in pleasure, her mouth unhinging from the corners and opening wide, an equally long and thin tongue escaping her mouth, moving to her shoulder to wrap around the others tongue, the two rough sandpaper-like muscles twining.

The taste of blood lingers on her and his tongues.

The both revel in it, sneaking deep into the other's mouths in search of more, their tongues wandering into each other's throats before going lower, so far they can taste the other's insides.

There is no speaking to convey what they feel.

No words or moans to give the idea of pleasure.

There is no pleasure in this.

Only what they are used to, pain.

_Pain._


	11. The First Flame of a Believer

S**uggested by: Warrod (**Thank you very much J_ )_

**Written By: Hilarious-Mayhem**

**Characters: Dahlia and Claudia after Alessa's burning.**

* * *

_It would be better for "myself" to die. After all, it's nothing to be afraid of... _

_That child...that demon... When I think of the endless pain it will bring when it is birthed... I decided that, instead of the suffering and cruelty I endured in that sick room, that I would like to bestow a more gentle and peaceful death on "myself". _

_Why do "I" resist? I never thought of "myself" as such a fool....._

_-Alessa Gillespie's thoughts._

* * *

"A…Alessa…" She prayed on this name, gave her everything in that prayer to one of the people that she loved the most.

…the one she loved most in the world.

She shared a past with that girl, that delicate, almost deceptively harmless girl who she knew as Alessa. Memories of lost games of cards and birthday cards with sweet notes on them, something she rarely got from her own father and mother.

_"To little Claudia. Happy 6th Birthday… _

Reduced to a charred being.

Her once white skin had been blackened by the licks of the very flames that were used to bring about god.

To impregnate the young girl with god…with their savior.

And this god was…eating her from the inside out.

Claudia didn't know how to feel about this.

_"I love you as if you were my real sister..."_

On one hand, she was happy to the oncoming promise of paradise, everlasting joy despoiled by humanity.

It would be a pure place where all was good and no one had to hurt; to feel the lick of flames, or the thrust of a fist, nor would they hunger. Their souls would be filled to the brim with the light of god, they would bask in her glory and would feel the peace that came from just being within her presence.

God…she hated pain…Alessa…she must be in so much pain…

On the other hand was…Alessa…

_"Here's to you!"_

Alessa, the only one to understand her pain.

The only one to truly want to understand how the blows of her father made her heart cage, wanted to understand the need she had to please her family….

"Claudia…" A voice suddenly resounded through the chapel, shaking Claudia out of her prayer.

"Cease your pointless weeping." None other than the high priestess Dahlia fiercely said this, her black veil draped stiffly behind her head as she glared at the young girl.

"You know as well as I that Alessa's sacrifice was not in vain…" The solemn woman frowned, and Claudia found herself at loss. "To shed tears in the sight of such a gift…how disrespectful."

"I'm sorry…I just…" Claudia began in a hoarse tone, turning her head down to stare at her limp hands, which lay unmoving in her lap.

She forced herself not to cry.

"I…I want Alessa. I want her with me."

"I know, my child…" Dahlia soothed her, reaching down to pat the small girls head. "I too have lost a daughter, but with this loss we shall gain…gain the road to paradise…to salvation!"

The reverence with which the older woman said this made chills run up Claudia's spine.

"Alessa has suffered much," Dahlia began. "Her immolation was necessary, but with this burden, Alessa will be taken into paradise with open arms! My child, Claudia, we must strive to earn our own place. You must do so if you wish to be accepted into this wonderful new world."

"And…she'll be there?" Claudia asked with her eyes wide as she looked upon the all-knowing priestess. She hoped…

"All that makes you happy will be there, and our cups shall overflow with that happiness." Crooned the priestess, her eyes glittering with excitement.

"I want to be together…" Claudia whispered.

"Then you must do what is needed." The older woman quieted for a moment, looking at the younger girl speculatively, as if she were thinking very deeply about something. Her eyes took on an excitement that was unnerving to anyone who would have bothered to look.

"You…you have suffered greatly to, haven't you, my child?" The woman whispered with a small smile, taking the hand of the girl into her own. This caused Claudia to look up at her through watery eyes, her blank face crumpled.

"Oh…my poor, poor child." Dahlia said dramatically, throwing her arms around the pale haired younger, a smile creeping even wider onto her face as she ran her fingers through Claudia's limp and dull hair. "In order to escape your own suffering, we must have this paradise…so please, promise me something?"

"Yes, Mother Dahlia?" Claudia asked, surprised that the high priestess would ask something of her. What could she possibly have that the woman would want?

"Promise to create this paradise if I fail." She demanded, her grip tightening on the girl. "Do this, and your pain will wash away."

"But…but you would never fail." Claudia murmured. "I…I want to be happy...promise paradise will come."

"Good…" Dahlia crooned, petting the girl's hair.

"Good…"

* * *

Alessa…how I love you.

So…so much, I love you so much.

You're sacrifice…I appreciate.

But if you're not able…if you're not able to bear the pain…

I will.

For you.

Don't leave me again, because I could not bear it. I will not let you be taken or stolen again; I will not let you be away from me.

We'll go together, to paradise.

I know this is what you would want, that's what you told me you wanted when we were young and in pain.

You suffered the taunts and teases of others, and while they called you awful names…and made you so unhappy, you stood there passively. I suffered the blows and harsh words of my father, and only in you did I find myself.

So, be happy.

Be happy, because soon all of your pain will vanish.

Don't hate me.

I love you.

Please…


	12. Defeating Guilt

Suggested by: StoryMasterDX

Written by: Mantineus

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

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It was hell, plain and simple. That was for sure, but what was not was why he was there. For his short, twenty one year existence, Jake had done very little in the bad department. Yet he was thrown into a dark reality where friends were torn to shreds by monsters. It made very little sense to the young man whom only wielded a sword he saw some mysterious little boy drop. He would not have picked it up if it were not for that his name was written on it in blood where blade met hilt. Curiosity always got the better of him.

And it seemed it always would.

The clues he stumbled upon led him towards the elementary school. It, like the rest of Silent Hill, was desolate, yet the state of which it was left in made it seem like a tornado had struck inside it. Many tiles were chipped and broken, the ceiling was missing rafters, the class projects strewn about the whole building; all of them showing grotesque creatures drawn by children.

One was of a tall man in a butcher's smock and a red pyramid shaped dome for a head, a long sword was being dragged by it. Jake flipped it over, and found an inscription:

_To defeat guilt, one has to forgive oneself._

Jake had to marvel at the aptitude of the nameless child whom wrote that. He folded it up and placed it in his pocket. He walked around the school, fighting some monsters along the way, his sword was getting soaked, changing from silver to crimson. Though the biggest question he had to ask was why, out of all the doors in the building, the Principal's door was intact and closed instead of torn off of its hinges like the rest.

_He chuckled to himself as he got closer. He could definitely hear grunting coming from the alley. But were those moans? Or screams? Jake was too drunk to care. He just wanted to peak and giggle at the __**charming**__ couple that could not wait until they got to their room…_

He opened the door. The room was dark and silent except for the low groan of pain that was amplified by some metallic covering. He closed the door and turned on the light. Jake froze in place, his hand placed firmly on the handle, his body leaning against the door for support of his stupefied body. A tall man in a butcher's smock that looked as if it were made from skin with a rusty, red pyramid helmet stood on the other side of the principal's desk.

With a loud, painful groan, Pyramid Head kicked the desk, sending it sliding on the floor towards the door. But, to Jake's great surprise, his reflexes were still good. He jumped out of the way, rolling to the left side of the room. He stood with his sword, standing ready for the attack. With his only quick and easy get away blocked, he knew he had to fight.

The creature lumbered towards Jake, the sword it had with it made scrapping noises as it was being dragged along the floor. Jake took that as a good sign and charged, the sword poised to strike. But his resolve crumbled as the thing began to lift the sword up slowly with one hand. It was soon above its head and came down quickly. Jake had very little time to react, so he did something some would consider stupid. He grabbed hold of his blade with his left hand and blocked the heavy blade from coming any further down.

Jake inhaled sharply as the blade began to cut the flesh of his palm. He bent his arms back, both swords following the motion and he pushed back, jumping out of the sword's radius while doing so. The big sword hit the floor with a loud thud.

Jake ran towards the creature once more, this time cutting an arm. Blood pooled at the shallow cut and a groan escaped from within the helmet. His hope was restored. He swung once more; cutting at the beast's back. The skin was too tough to penetrate, but at least he was bleeding. If it bleeds, it can die.

Apparently Pyramid Head was getting angry, for he shoved the sword into the floor, letting it get stuck so that it could stand. It turned and faced Jake; weaponless and angry, it lumbered towards the young man, moving slightly faster due to the lost weight. Jake, for once, could not have been happier. The beast was weaponless, it could bleed, and his sword could cut it. He smirked at his challenger and charged. Pyramid Head grabbed the oncoming blade and jerked his hand to the side, flinging the boy against the wall. Pyramid Head took the blade between his hands and bent the metal, breaking it in two, tossing the useless pieces on the ground.

"Shit."

Before he knew what was happening, Jake felt himself being dangled in the air by his shirt. The monster's hand was clasping onto his shirt, allowing him to see behind him. A little boy in a green shirt and khaki shorts stood there, his skin a dead gray.

It was then that it hit him. He saw that kid before! Not just as the kid he was chasing earlier, but back then!

_There was blood everywhere. On the trashcan, the kid's legs, and the ground. Jake looked on in drunken horror at the sight before him. A grown man…A screaming kid…He gasped and the man heard him! The man faced him. The boy looked to Jake, hope laden in his crying eyes. _

_But Jake ran away…_

_The next day the news reporter mentioned the alley and what was found there. The boy had a lateral cut along his stomach, his innards cascaded out and was found missing, leading investigators to believe that stray animals ate them._

Pyramid Head tossed Jake to the ground, his body sprawled on the floor on his stomach. Lifting his head weakly, he was met with the neutral expression of the boy.

"I'm sorry," Jake said, tears falling from his eyes. "I'm so sorry."

The boy crouched down and smiled.

"I know. And I forgive you."

"Why?"

"You saw the blood. I was a gonner anyway." He stood up. "Now forgive yourself. That's the only way you can beat guilt."

The boy pointed towards Pyramid Head.

Pyramid Head lumbered towards his sword and lifted it out of the ground. He turned around and slowly walked towards the two, his sights on Jake. He was going to finish him. Jake, however, felt better. Like a weight was being lifted off his shoulders.

"Look," The boy said, pointing to where Jake's sword was broken in two.

Jake's eyes widened. It was whole again. Pyramid Head lifted the sword up and plunged it towards Jake's spine. But the man rolled over, got up, and ran towards his sword. He grabbed it and felt relief. That was when he remembered what a friend of his said. 'Find the heart of the problem'. It was a long shot, but if he was wrong, what did it matter? He was going to die someday. Jake poised to strike, Pyramid head lumbered towards him. Jake charged. Pyramid head stood there, realizing that it was no longer needed. The sword penetrated the fleshy smock and dead flesh, piercing his heart.

Pyramid Head made a low, sad growl in pain as he landed on his knees and fell forward. Like the man before him, his pain was being relieved as well. Jake slowly fell to his knees, the world fading to black before he hit the ground.


	13. Defining Dream

Writer: Carneeval

Plot: Alessa has a dream in her childhood where she meets her 'other selves' and they exchange hatred and sorrow, which fuels the town Silent Hill into a nightmare

* * *

Suggestion by: Hiding In My Writing

Sleep never came well to Alessa, it was rare that she truly felt the escape come to her easily. Words from her Mother and the members of the Order brought on a nervous air of their plans to resurrect the Holy Mother, this was her use, to purify the retched planes of sin and rebirth it into Paradise.

Fire, fire would cleanse the Nation of Sin. Her understanding of this came on slowly, but she didn't want to accept it... This night was strange, slipping under the covers in her nightgown in the darkness of her room and Claudia in the next sleep captured the young girl into unconsciousness with moments of time in almost a consuming manner.

The sleeping sensation did not last as long as she would think it would. Darkness engulfed her within its tight grasps and for a split second she felt burning that snapped her eyes open. The bright tall walls of flames took over her sight flowing past her in heat waves, terrifying her beyond all measures. She glanced to her side hearing a small voice, recognizing this to be her own.

Mom... Her mother was leaving the house and on the floor... Illness snatched her, she shut her eyes and covered her mouth quickly stepping back only to recall that this belonged to fire, expecting her night gown to catch by the fire she braced herself, but then she realized she had become cold.

Alessa's breathing had become small hitches from her lunges, she lowered her arms taking a peak at her surroundings. Security became vibrant, it was the church in the middle of town. Cold wood touched her bare feet as she was still in sleeping clothing.

The lighting in the church was ever so slight due to the time but she could recognize two figures in the soft lighting, sitting in the benches. One had the height of a woman, with a smaller outline resting against their shoulder, whimpering softly in the silence.

She approached them cautiously, to many she was not a welcome presence, the other children treated her like a beast meant to be scorned whilst to the Order members the child was treated as a Saint, the contradicting treatment gave her no peace and brought on a large amount of weariness towards any of the members of Silent Hill.

When she had taken the turn that gave her sight on the two she could see their features. The small girl seemed to be her age, perhaps a bit younger but not by very much, her black hair only reached her cheeks. The woman next to her stared off, unaffected but calm in the same way. Her eyes stood out like green emeralds in the pale lighting, her hair was partly riled, a blond and brown tinge to it, from the middle roots it seemed to be dyed.

She only watched, examining the two, a habit of hers that often caused extra violent bullying from her peers at the school. She took notice of their similar apparel to hers, a white nightgown... This was a strange occurrence but a voice in the back of her head reminded her of the previous events. She was asleep, dreaming to be precise.

Still... The blond woman glanced her way, for that bit they only stared at one another. She was surprised by this, felt herself stuck in that place looking back at what seemed like a distantly familiar face. One that she should know... After the seconds passed by, the woman looked away, facing forward again, but her right hand lifted, offering Alessa a seat on the bench next to her where the smaller girl wasn't.

She stood dumfounded there, waiting for any sort of further response but she just stared towards the front of the church. Taking a long intake of breath Alessa stepped across the freezing wooden floors seating herself next to the blond female, nervously ringing her hands in the silence.

The one next to her looked down at her other side and softly spoke, "Cheryl... Alessa is here..."

Her eyes became wide at this, they knew of her name but... The dream excuse seemed to become dimmer as she intently waited for what happened next. The black haired girl rose up, wiping at her eyes but nodded, she climbed off her place and stood before Alessa with a thin smile on her pale face, "Hello there." She said quietly nodding to her, the elder slid to her previous part of the bench so the girl Cheryl could sit in the middle.

Alessa glanced to the both of them, creasing her brows, "Who...Who are you?"

"Heather," The elder answered impatiently, "And this is Cheryl..."

This didn't answer what she wanted to know truly, their names weren't it. Then again... What did she want to know in the first place?

"The ritual is happening tomorrow... Isn't it?" Heather asked, her tone never wavering until the end where her voice cracked ever so slightly.

Alessa was thrown back, neither of them were part of the Order! How in the world could they know of it? Also...No one had said anything to her about it...

Heather took her direction of sight towards Alessa, "They didn't tell you?" She asked, and Alessa shook her quickly, black hair reaching down into her face as she bowed her head, "Figures..." She grunted.

She looked back up desperately, "How do you know this? I know your names but nothing about you and why your here!"

Cheryl gave her a tiny smile, soft and kind, she put her hand onto Alessa's, "We are all one in the same person."

She canted her head at this, she suddenly recalled the pain in that fire just from being near it, but what seemed to be her lay on the floor charred by the flames and her mother simply abandoned her, she clenched her fists deeply into the cloth of the dress, why would they do this to her?

"They took me away from my Daddy..." Cheryl muttered, looking down at the ground, kneeling on the bench now, her breath had become shaky, sobs within them, "I was so happy with him and they... He tried so hard to help me and they tried to stop him and...And anyone who tried to help him..."

She reached an arm up, wiping tears away from her eyes, trying to conceal the deep crying she'd entered into from telling of what she told. Alessa recognized that she was speaking of the Order but... She said that they were all 'one in the same'.

"I was just a subway ride away from my dad," Heather spoke up now, but unlike Cheryl's sad telling her voice held rage, hate playing into it, "Claudia ordered that thing to kill him and now because of that damn occult...I'll never see him again..." She bowed her head, clenching her teeth but one last word slipped out quietly, "Never..."

"Claudia?" She questioned for that moment she entered into complete shock. Claudia would never ask of anyone's death, even she was a little weary of the Ritual, even finding time when the adults would not be listening to ask if Alessa was comfortable with doing this.

As if it was all her choice to resurrect the Holy Mother. Claudia only wanted what would make her happy.

Heather stood up walking past Cheryl and kneeling in front of Alessa and taking her hands into hers, for that slit second all her sight left her and she saw, she saw it all. Pain, torment, tears and what everything could become, was going to become. When she could see once again her eyes were wide in terror, it matched her nightmares of the town of Silent Hill, after everything she'd been put through because of the place.

After staring forward for a long while she felt one salty tear slip down her cheek, and looked down towards Heather, she was giving her a serious look, "Do you understand?"

She said nothing, thought things over for as long she needed, then closed her lids over her eyes to nod in agreement, when she had Heather let go and rose off the cold floors. Cheryl stood up to stand next to Heather, Alessa fallowed suit.

Three lives stood before one another, meant to only belong to one.

"Is this all a dream?" She questioned weakly.

Heather didn't answer immediately, when she did she had a small smile, "Of sorts."

"Why?" She asked, it was directed towards all the thing, the memories locked away for the future that she absolutely wanted to refuse but could not.

Cheryl swung her arms from side to side, a movement most children did at times, "Selfishness..." The little girl said thoughtfully, speaking like an adult, "Is a hard thing to try and understand..."

She inhaled through her nose, eyebrows dipping in depression, Heather and Cheryl turned, hands held now, "We have to go now." Heather murmured to her.

She nodded, watching as they, hand in hand, walked in the direction she originally had entered in from. As she was left to the mercy of her thoughts she experienced a new emotion.

Rage.

The paint on the sides of the church walls peeled away from itself, leaving only the interior design, boards on the floor easily ripped from their places, she looked down at her hands. They could empower the Holy Mother...

But she had control...

It was time to wake up.

And she was ready.


	14. Picture Perfect

Writer: Carneeval

Suggested by: SadandLonelyOne

Plot: Based off of 21 Sacraments Ending (Contains slash)

Title: Picture Perfect

Authors note: I'm a violent person in writing... And I know, I know, using technology a lot in a Silent Hill piece, very cheesy but try to enjoy anyways. This is an idea I played around in my head a long time ago and thanks to this I had a chance to further it.

Inspiration for wires, truthfully: Yami no Matsuei.

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The pain had erupted so suddenly in his head that he toppled to his knees, grasping his head loosely as the amount of agonizing burning had begun within the inner parts of his skull. He'd felt everything slip deftly into darkness as consciousness cruelly left him for the purpose of abandoning this ache that had occurred.

As it left him he could only think was of Eileen-Was she okay? Had he heard a scream?- and of the bleeding form that had crumpled to the ground previous of this. Hadn't that signaled victory? Weren't they free from this cursed world?

All of this questioning came in quick streaks, but all ended into quiet. Horrifying silence. Like when the chains had first been strung across his door and all the things in his apartment stopped working.

----

The headache that had invaded into his senses causing his agony had disappeared, but he didn't have any time to he thankful. His throbbing head had just been replaced by a new stinging hurt. He could distantly feel something soaking into his shirt but he had other things that demanded his attention.

Cloudy green eyes stung as his lids lifted off to give him sight towards what was happening. He canted his head down towards his arms, where the pain had most dominance. Indeed his white shirt no longer held only that coloring. Thin wires held up his arms, pressing into them and slicing the skin thinly bleeding through into the material of his button up.

He winced looking around trying to detect exactly where he had ended up in his moments of unconsciousness. On either side of him, holding the wiring, was a grated fence, he couldn't tell what could be on the other side as only miles of dark could be viewed. The fencing seemed to take a turn, simply continuing on like in normality. In the real world. He angled back towards what was in front of him, the flooring and walls across were concrete, cracked here and there with black markings. In the middle was a single wooden door.

He blinked, trying to keep his focus else where, away from the stinging from the cuts in his skin, it reminded him of the Building World, doors placed in strange places. He'd... Never seen this place however, thinking it over he'd found so many locked and jammed doors that denied him entrance when he turned the handle, perhaps this was what was beyond on of them.

Then it came to mind, terror rose from his heart bringing in a sick feeling, how in the world did he get there? How had he been strung up like this, violent intents obvious. There was only one in this deformed world who would do something of this nature for sick delusions and ideas of sick murders never ended.

It couldn't be, he'd watched the man die and... It mentally hit him, like so many other things had while in this place. How could the alternate world still stand if its master was dead and passed on. It couldn't, but he'd swung the ax and pulled the trigger after stabbing the hanging corpse that had the ability to groan and move, no matter how it disgusted him, he still did it, had the upper hand.

He didn't realize he'd dropped his head in anguish until he looked back up when a noise, other then light dripping of his own blood, clicked and a stream of light was let in as the door, it was only opened only slightly before the one whom did so slipped inside, not letting him view what was beyond.

Of course, if he had any hopes in those seconds of whom it could be they were swiftly tossed away. Or perhaps broken. Shattered into tiny pieces, to small to piece back together and to sharp to hold onto for extended time.

The nightmare of this world, creator of his entrapment, inflicter of his wounds, closed the door behind him, a thin smile never leaving his face. As if it ever did, he always smiled, even as he and Eileen made attempted attacks on him to protect their own lives... Another mental hit came into play, "Eileen..." He said in a whisper, it was then that he realized he had heard a scream, piercing and horrified, but being who he was, when one thing was meant to be focused on he cared only for that, his attention would be drawn to it to be sure it was done.

How could he not notice she had...Had...

Normally he held onto covering his emotions so desperately, it was his only protection, even with all the things that happened while he remained locked in his room, he kept up the mask that hid how he felt about things, but here, now, after what he had realized that let go. His shield dropped along with his heart, a single tear, even in the presence of his enemy, slid down his cheek, to his chin and dripped to the concrete flooring.

----

Walter stood afar from him, smirking further at this act, it had been years since he last cried himself, back when he was still residing in his disgusting human and mortal form, when the young girl -Ms. Galvin, 20/21, the Mother Reborn- had kindly given him, she had served her purpose, now Henry had to face his death, he wouldn't have the luxury of being in a state of possession during his death. No, Walter wanted to see that anguish and desperation for death to take him just to end the suffering he would endure.

It had him snicker so lightly it didn't disturb Henry in his moment of emptiness, perhaps contemplating what to do, or perhaps he wasn't thinking what so ever. It mattered not. He stepped across the room to the strung up man, he leaned against the fence next to Henry, his eyes laying upon the stream that left his cheek slightly wet, reaching his blood stained hand up he ran his thumb against it, retrieving the salty water.

He snicker again, louder this time to purposely capture Henry's attention staring at his hand still, he licked it, tasting the symbol of depression and distress, he looked up, enjoying the disgusted expression Henry had taken on from seeing this.

He turned towards him, lifting off the fence so he could standing across from the other man, "Henry," He stated simply awaiting a response.

Henry's light green eyes angled down, how sad, he was unable to look towards him, they seemed to be searching for what to say, although there was no use to it, "You killed her..." He growled, he finally looked up, anger giving him a new sense of strength towards being so close to him, though Walter merely smiled on, watching as Henry became further enraged. He pulled on the wires, allowing his wrists and arms to bleed more thoroughly as he began to yell, "You_ bastard_! She never did anything wrong to you! Nothing, and you killed her! I'll kill you... I swear to god..." He growled, his nails digging into his palms as he clenched them further, blood thickly entering as it ran down his arms, he recognized this and winced, "Dammit!"

Walter stayed quiet for a bit, contemplating many different things, finding all of Henry's words oh so amusing, finally, he fully grinned, chuckling through his teeth, suddenly he put his arms out on either side of Henry, grasping his fingers into the fencing causing it to move for a moment, their faces were close, close enough for Henry to feel his vile breath.

It changed when Walter spoke, a laugh within his voice, "You'll...Kill me?" He questioned mockingly, "Do you still believe you have the upper hand Henry? You never have, you followed through with my set plan for you. I wanted you to choose Mother, you did. Every world, everywhere you went and did, I wanted you to do, as it all lead up to you fulfilling your name as Receiver of Wisdom."

He took a hand away from the fencing for favoring running his fingers through Henry's brunette locks, "In a way... You helped me with taking Ms. Galvin's life."

This triggered him once again, he attempted to, even though his ankles were bound, to kneel him in the stomach, to cause any sort of damage but was unable to get that far, he hissed in anger, "I..." He tried to say something. He would never? No he didn't? Wasn't the proof in front of him? Eileen was dead, never to smile warmly or offer a comforting hand to him. Stuck in this horror for all of eternity.

"I..." He repeated but it came out without the previous anger or strength, instead it was a pathetic croak.

Pleased with this, Walter took his hand out of Henry's hair and reached into his coat pocket, taking out something rectangle and metal, he could do nothing but watch in question...It looked familiar... Once Walter held in the dank light he fully recognized it. Confusion and revulsion ran through him, it was his digital camera, he would bring with him on small outings in case he truly wanted to snap a shot of something he would always have something on hand as his professional camera was something he didn't want damage to be brought to.

"Why the hell..." He began to question but before he could complete the sentence the other hand returned to his hair, this time it was in a painful grip, pulling at the strands and forcing his head to be angled up, unexpectedly Walter lifted the camera and with one press of the button it flashed. When he let go Henry realized, he'd taken a picture.

Walter looked at the screen on the back with a devious smile, though his eyes rested on Henry again, "All will know what happened here to you." The hand that did not hold the camera reached into his other pocket, taking a knife out, Henry's eyes widened further, Walters voice dropped to a thick whisper, "As there wont be the evidence to know without it..."

Struggling had no worth, he still did so in fear as the knifes edge was pressed against his cheek, the same he had tasted a tear from earlier, and drug down his skin releasing the seem of skin to allow blood to freely flow down, he continued uncaring and ignoring the cries it ensued. He ended the cut at the side of Henry's chin, he smirked once again snapping a shot from the camera.

Damn him... He'd something that held actually good memories for Henry against him, he felt the cold metal's flat side press against the underneath of his chin, forcing him to look up towards his attacker. At least he didn't have to look him in the eyes, the other mans eyes were looking over the wound he'd just inflicted.

He snickered, taking a picture whilst he held up Henry's chin with the knife, "Your a beautiful piece of work Henry..."

"Shut up..." He immediately responded, he did not want to hear such disgusting remarks from Walter, "Psycho..." He spat out, blood had collected in the side of his mouth, he spit out at Walters shoes in defiance, anything that could be seen as such.

Walter shook his head, he rose his arm placing it bent on the fence above Henry as he leaned towards him, Walters forehead pressed against his own, as he smiled that of a wolf in sheep skin, voice in false sympathy, "Such remarks are going to do nothing for you, can't you see that it's over?"

Henry's eyes stayed downwards, "It's not over until I die..." He smirked slightly, "I'm not going to make it easy for you...You wont...Get to see your mother yet..."

This made Walter frown, such a topic he brought up, to the point towards Henry's sacrifice, ten years of waiting, he sighed deeply, shutting his eyes, "You misunderstand Henry, with every breath taken from you, every inch you take towards death I can feel her closer to me, it is a truly beautiful thing..." He clenched his fingers into the front of Henry's shirt, the camera still held in that hand, "That's why I _want_ to drag this out as long as I can."

He brought the knife down, slicing the front of his shirt open, the tip dug into his skin, through the middle of his chest and stomach, blood rising from the slice, it began as a gasp but turned quickly formed into a yell. Walter merely smirked, he swiped his arm, cutting across Henry's cheek, with the speed of this it caused rivets of the crimson liquid to splatter to the concrete ground and stick against the fencing he was bound against.

All was silent in that moment, Henry's head had turned with the force of the knife, and didn't move until he heard the sound of the camera, "This is all one big game to you isn't it?"

Walter only chuckled under his breath as he took hold of his hand left hand holding his palm up, all Henry could do was watch and wince as he carefully cut into his hand, from the careful slices he could tell this wasn't like the previous ones, this was different...

When he was satisfied with it he walked across, the empty smile on his face, taking his right hand and continuing this act, the same exact painful cuts mimicking what he'd done on the left. Walter smirked at it, and without warning he leaned in, licking rivets of blood from his palm running his tongue against the markings.

Henry pulled at the bindings only resulting in more stinging, "God dammit... Stop you sick bastard!"

He did, straightening his posture he stepped back only slightly before taking his wrist and turning his own hand to his sight the hand held a cut into... Indeed the movements had been intended to be carefully done, he had with all of them, a twenty one. His other hand no doubt held the same exact symbolizing, with a pained wince he looked down towards the slice that had been made down the middle of his shirt along with his skin.

From each hand it completed the markings, twenty one out of twenty one. The middle showed the slash for count, he reminded himself that was all he was from here, a number. The last. As he had done eariler Walter began documenting it with Henry's own technology.

"You...bastard..." He breathed out slowly, trying not to disturb the injuries, "You have no fucking regard for...Human life..."

Walter chuckled, it slowly resolved into a complete laugh that cut off as quickly as it had maniacally began, returning the camera temporarily to his pocket, he pressed it to the collar of Henry's shirt, leaning forward towards the opposite mans ear, "You hate me don't you? Yes, you believe you hate me with everything I've made you do but..." Another chuckle, he rose the knife away, due to his position Henry had no clue of where it had gone, his nerve system answered for him.

A searing pain ended up in the soft flesh underneath his collar bone and for a split second he swore it had scraped the bone itself, his pupils dilated in agony before he yelled out, not able to think enough for any coherent obscenities only sound before the volume faded to pathetic whimpering when he realized that he was splitting open crusting over wounds and letting the bleed free again by vocalizing his pain.

This time, he didn't register that the picture had been taken, the flash didn't reach his eyes and sound meant nothing over the ringing and blurs.

His head dropped down with that, forgetting Walters presence, and when it was reignited he was standing there, the mentally obscuring wound acted more as a blessing than a curse. He heard that damn laugh again, god dammit he'd love to punch the son of a bitch in the mouth at that moment. Glaring was all he could do, though it gave him no satisfaction, blood loss had given his skin a reason to perspire causing his skin to stick to his forehead, his eyes concealed mostly from the long strands of hair.

Walter was speaking again, his hands coming up to his shoulders, avoiding the blade remaining lodged in Henry's skin. Dammit did he wish he could block the mans voice out, "_You_ cannot understand hate," Each word added emphasis to the next, "You don't know true pain or suffering or loneliness. You believe you can understand it but you can't..." His words had become a mussed insane ramble, not the controlled slow smooth voice whom spoke to him before their fight, this was what would be expected of a man of his sanity, but that was no reason that Henry wanted to hear that side.

He wouldn't be the one to admit, not ever, but... He was terrified by the new found sound, this was it wasn't it, when he was on the verge of murder as he'd done over and over and over before. This was it wasn't it, that side that he actually believed that he could avoid. No, he could escape this he would and he'd take... No...She was dead he... Couldn't do anything.

Walter continued after an unsteady laugh, there was a high pitch in the middle, his fingers inched deeper into Henry's shoulders, "You don't_ feel_ enough to know what it is to truly, _truly _feel hate... I know you Henry, I knew all of you all too well, every single one of you. You may think I don't, She didn't believe me either, but I _do_ because even for those two long years I was watching. I was always watching you. You're empty Henry, so you can't hate." He moved closer, lowering his voice to a whisper, "But don't worry... I'll make you feel..."

Before Henry had time to properly react towards the psychotic promise Walter gripped the knifes handle ripping it away from the flesh causing him to yell out once again this was paid no mind to. With one swing he ripped down, slicing through skin again, in a diagonal line across his chest and stomach. It did not stop, he ruthlessly brought the knife in all directions where he'd decided. His blood released in the thin streaks, from his cheeks, his nose, his lips, arms and torso. Moving had become an option he could not seek, from every end his clothes were soak with the blood that before this whole mess only was happened to be seen with simple little things. A paper-cut, tripping like an idiot, any accidents that could happen in the kitchen.

Now, it ran down his skin, sickly he thought of it distantly like rain, soaking and pure. Blood wasn't pure like rain.

He heard Walter grunt an enraged response, he snapped a shot with the camera but this time the finger met the button violently making a loud click, ready to break it for any use of calming. Walter took a fistful of hair into his grip turning Henry's face to look to him, the glare meeting a daze, "You still insist on this? Why haven't you begged for your life? They always do, you all always do,"

Henry's breath had become a ragged choke, something he had to focus to continue to do, but after obtaining enough oxygen in his lungs to speak, though fear arose that he'd rip his own skin by moving in such a way, "I...Will never...Never...Beg to you... Even...For my own life..." A strained noise came from his throat as he spoke slowly, trying to continue, "I know I'm going to die, I've... Excepted... That...But you'll get nothing from it... Nothing but your...Demon..."

He could hear Walter breathing through his nostrils, he had small hope that the psychopath would throw a tantrum and break the dammed camera so no one would ever see him like this. They wouldn't know they wouldn't...

"This is how you do video if I'm correct?"

Henry's eyes jolted back open, he'd actually almost let himself slip, he knew it was far from unconsciousness, he'd actually almost allowed himself to die without any further provocation, as if knowing that Walter might get rid of the evidence he was so eager to compile before would actually give him peace. And that one sentence snapped him back, back to this hell, back into its bastard leaders grasps.

He didn't want to, but his eyes flickered up, Walter was holding the small metal so he could see the screen perfectly, "I had seen you do it before," He smirked further, revisiting the statement that he'd heard play on his phone.

I'm always watching you.

Always.

_Always._

He'd just accidentally switched it to video at one point when attempting to photograph the apartment and send it to his brother when he first moved in -all those two years ago- instead he'd began filming it, _"Ah, hell..." He had muttered but smirked and began moving the camera round the rooms, "Well Mark," He announced as narration, "I know you were expecting a few pictures of 302, but your getting a video instead. You'll be able to deal with it right?"_

He actually felt his eyes sting, but did not allow himself to further it, only left his eyes stinging in despair. The screen was turned away and the top button clicked to begin it, he thought bitterly of how Walter didn't want_ himself_ included, although he's been so desperately after attention for all these years.

He pointed it at the beginning, his hand where he'd first carved the twenty one, stepping with it, his boots echoing off the concrete.

"Is it painful Henry?" He asked, amusement playing in his voice, "It wont hurt for too long. It will all be over soon."

Was he...Putting on a show?! He breathed in from his nose ready to retort but quickly Walters hand shot out, covering his mouth, the cold handle of the blade touched sensitive skin.

"Should you really be speaking when your in this shape Henry?" The camera was so close, it was the only bright light in this place and it desperately stung, Walter brought his hand a little ways away, dragging the knife only so much that it touched his skin but do nothing to damage it. He knew what was being captured, he was barley recognizable probably not the same with these cuts and slices marking deeply into his skin. He didn't know, he didn't want to.

Though he'd gone numb by this time, nerves probably dying out as his senses dropped, he recognized touch still, with the knife in hand Walter placed his palm underneath his chin, fingers touching his cheek, blood pressed out of it, "You look perfect." He said in a whisper.

The hand moved away and he knew the feeling of the thick blade touching onto the side of his top lip, it pressed more slowly than his quick cutting earlier, when Walter had risen blood he drug against the different texture of skin than the rest of the males body, it was more sensitive, so much more easily damaged.

He'd made a curved slice, and Henry gave no response, "You don't want to smile pretty for the camera Henry?" Walter asked cruelly, smiling all the way, it dropped to his side, though he did not turn it off, with a damaged and silent Henry it caused his anger to arise, he stepped back, standing a little away from him. Reaching into his pocket he seemed to change what he was holding and replace it. Henry wasn't sure exactly what he felt when he saw the gun. He'd viewed it so many times before: one then two, then one again. However he'd decided he wanted to attack he and his female friend.

He watched Walter while Walter stared him down, finally his hazy green eyes shut, and he muttered only one thing, "Well?"

The gun was shot. Loud and echoing off of everything, an ear piercing noise. Henry felt nothing.

His eyes opened once again, they met with the same dim concrete room and Walter holding the gun in his hand that had just been shot. Nonononononono...

Denial wore of, he glanced to the side of his head, there was slight bits of smoke coming off the metal fence from extreme heat. He missed? He missed...On purpose. By the time he'd looked back up Walter had the camera again, gun at his side and taking slow footfalls towards him, "Well?" Walter asked, "Henry, are you that eager to die? Truthfully that eager?" He shook his head, taunting, "I thought you had a little bit of will left in you, your no fun when your like this. Ah well..." He didn't see what happened when Walter had neared him again or how it happened, but the knife was driven into his stomach, he choked and gasped but it did nothing for him.

He heard the camera be shut off, and for seconds Walter did nothing to harm him, only watched him in pain, but that didn't last as long as Henry would have liked it to.

His rough calloused hands touched the sides of his face, tilting his head up and without warning his mouth met with Henry's in a violent kiss. Henry realized these happenings on his ruined and bleeding lips, he struggled tried to get away with no avail his failing body didn't allow anything more than slight moving and sounds of disdain.

Walter finally pulled away, he stroked Henry's wet hair, "You really do hate me don't you?" He carefully slipped the knife away, "It's too bad, because your staying with me for..."

Walters voice trailed into nothing, he didn't know what he said, it didn't matter. All that mattered was the dark.

---

He felt it fade after moment within it, alone and without anything, no heartbeat, no pulse, his blood stopped running, he was cold, freezing in fact. Sickening warmth gave in however, it made him gag to experience it after such cold. When his eyes adjusted he saw nothing but red, deep and scarlet with flecks of black.

Soon he noticed something moving within it, and realization knocked through him. It was the ceiling of his apartment, as usual the fan twisted, keeping any amount of air in his home while the doors were locked. But no... The walls were flesh like, just like when he had those nightmares when the door was first locked. He was himself however, not the nightmare person before. He knew what had happened to him. He sat up on the rusted bed, looking to his right he surprisingly saw his female friend curled up sleeping. Bruises, cuts, and wrappings gone. She was in that pink and white shirt with the green skirt, like he'd seen her before they ventured for freedom. He sat on his knees, reaching out and parting her hair, her breath changed a little but she did not awaken yet, "I failed," He said with a depressed smile.

Moving to where he'd found himself on his bed, he set his feet on the floor and walked around the bed, finding it strange since he normally got off the side where Eileen was. He guessed there were many things he'd have to get use to.

He didn't want to truthfully, but he opened the door, touching the rusted doorknob and softly shutting the door behind him. Walking down the hallways, like he had so many times before, he saw that the rest of the apartment was the same. Flesh like, but different from Apartment world. When he entered the living room, he saw Little Walter lying on the couch, though awake he seemed more interested in humming than offering a greeting.

He glanced at the door, just like in his nightmares, it was no longer whole, only a peephole and an outline of a once open able door, with no chains this time.

Walter sat on one of the arm chairs by the windows, his head was tilted back slightly as he had his eyes shut, enjoying the air of the decayed apartment that he called Mother, "They'll find it on the table," Walter spoke up suddenly, eyes staying shut, "Near your body."

He looked at the table, indeed a rusted bloody version of the camera sat there, it would appear normal in the real world, containing the last moments of his life. He turned away now that he had answers to go back to where he had once found so much comfort but Walter speaking again stopped him, "Do you hate me, Henry?"

Henry paused in the hallways before speaking, "Yes."

He heard a chuckle, strangely warm this time, "You have eternity to change that."


	15. The Sufferer

_This is just a small rendition of Angela's death. I've been very busy and I though I'd post it since it's been collecting dust on my computer...please be patient though people. I'm going to post more soon! Seriously! . sorry. I've been a bad updater. Haha._

As a child, she once believed that the world was innocent.

Like herself.

Well...that was long ago.

In a time she didn't care to remember, a time of her first prick of pain, her first taste of what true horror could be.

At only the age of ten years old she learned this lesson from her own flesh and blood.

She was hurt, and her faith in the world crumbled to ashes. She knew now that the world was rotten to the core, the inside of the pretty surface infested with maggots that were unseen the human eye.

Unseen unless the person in question were cornered, and hurt.

The evil only appeared fully to the weakest, the ones who were already in pain.

Because the weaker were easier pickings. It was so much easier for the darkness to pick at the weak, pluck all their imperfections out, throw them in the open and feast upon the leftovers. To devour the weak...

For a strong person, you would have to dig deeper, probe at the raw nerves until you were able to infest their soul, infest their mind. Implant those thoughts of doubt....and even then, a strong person could fight, they could live, and thrive....

Angela had never been a strong person.

Maybe that's why things had turned out the way they had...

Because she was so...weak.

So...helpless....who could resist something so...naive.

But who would ever really know...

She didn't even think she knew herself.

Angela hadn't been named because her mother considered her angelic in any sense.

In fact, it had been quite the opposite.

Her given name was...a form of sick irony for her mother.

Her mother had thought of her as only a burden. She had gotten pregnant with her at only the age of seventeen, something that was very hard for the young woman. She hated the young child she had been impregnated with, not only because of her mere birth, but because she hated the father.

The man who left her.

She supposed in a sense it was probably hard for her mother...to look at her face every day and see the face of the man she loved, or thought she had loved.

That was one of the most painful things to endure...unrequited love. You give so much love, pour whatever you can into that "someone" until you're completely drained. And you end up getting nothing in return.

Nothing to fill up your own soul. Nothing to fill the emptiness that echoes like a dark void without, a silent weeping that is so hard to quite...so hard to contain with only a handful of compassion.

She always felt empty...except in one place.

She remembered that place.

Silent Hill.

As a young girl of only seven...before "it" happened, she remembered playing by Toluca Lake, away from her mother who lived in the Woodside apartments. Away from her "father"...who was more affectionate than she would have liked. Over the years, he had become strange towards her. His fingers lingering longer, as well as his treacherous eyes.

It was a blessed escape to be away, staring out at the cool up and down motion of the black waters of Toluca Lake, a place that used to be a tourist attraction. It didn't get many visitors anymore...too many accidents, as the reporters and newspapers like to refer to them as.

She would close her eyes, listen to the water flapping gently against the shore, sometimes she would even take off her shoes, stick her toes in the cool water and daydream.

This place was holy.

Truly...a sanctuary.

And in those moments of blessed silence, Angela would reflect upon herself, in the curious way that young children do. It wasn't something that was deep, or particularly self-discovering, it was a way of pretending.

She would pretend she had many friends, all of whom loved her and would stay with her forever. Her friends would be kind and giving, and they would never let her down. They would always be there, standing by her side no matter what happened, always have her best interests in mind and never fail to make her happy.

In her perfect world, there was a mother who loved her, who cared for her more than anything. And there was the perfect father, one who would always comfort her in her moments of unhappiness.

How pleasant a child's dreams truly are.

Because when you become an adult, it's so much easier to turn your back on those dreams, so much easier to let yourself become tainted and destroyed by the impurities of the world.

It's sad, really...a sad truth. That the world of adults is so much dirtier than that of a child. But it's funny...because through a child's eyes, everything is simple. It's easier to see the truth...

Along with those memories of Silent Hill though, she remembered something else...something that she had forgotten long ago...someone. But who was it..?

Her head hurt so badly...and the flames fluttered around her wildly, and she couldn't think because of all of the pressure. All around her there was the feeling of heat....guilt....god...who was it?

Blonde....green eyed?

A boy? What was the name? Why couldn't she think of it?

It was important...she had to remember who. But to remember who...she would have to go back to when...that time...

And she felt only one thing at the thought of going back to that time, even inside of her head. Back to that place where her nightmares had first began.

Fear.

_The stagnant smell of sex littered the air...musky... and sickening._

_She couldn't stand it. _

_Her mind was being lost._

_She sat in the corner, her legs curled up painfully, and tears still wet on her face. She had stopped crying long ago. Now the only sound in the room was that of loud snoring from the bed that lay close by. _

_She needed to get away..._

_Bile rose to her throat at the mere thought of what had occurred only moments before, and she gagged, puking in the corner. _

_After this episode of vomiting, she got up on shaky legs, feeling a wetness between her thighs that could only be identified as blood...at least she thought it was...it could be his...oh god. Dirty...it was so dirty. She felt so disgusting._

_And the mirror...oh god, she'd seen everything...that had happened..._

_She winced, making her way to the door, feeling uncomfortable and sticky. Almost by instinct as she got outside the room, she began looking around frantically, for her. Where was she?_

"_Momma...?" She cried, biting her already bruised lip. _

"_Momma. Where are you momma? I don't feel so good..." _

_She moaned this, letting herself fall to her knees for a moment, and once again releasing the contents of her stomach. _

_It hurt, the stomach acid burning her throat, making hot tears leak out of her eyes from the pain._

She wakes up in pain, she had passed out on the floor. A puddle of her own vomit lay underneath her.

It was night.

Mother still wasn't home.

And she could the snores of her "father" nearby.

In her moment of unconsciousness, she dreamed. Horrible dreams, of a room that was lined with flesh, pistons of that flesh thrusting out of and into the wall. A horrible smell had encased the room, the smell of sex and rotting. Rotten.

Tired, she rose to her feet, heading directly to the front door with her skin crawling sickeningly. She felt awful, and dirty, and could barely stand the feeling of her own skin as she walked silently down the foreboding apartment hallway.

Down the hall.

Out the front door.

Down the street.

She detached herself as she walked, and was almost unaware to where she was. Until she heard the waves.

She just wanted a slip quietly into Toluca Lake, wanted to disappear.

She curled up, began to cry. Because she knew she was too weak to kill herself, not strong enough to do what had been done so long ago. She was a dead girl on the inside.

In those moments, between her tears and weeping, she felt the presence of another, a calming figure. She began to quiet, simply laying on the mucky and trying to soak in that presence like a sponge.

Then she heard the footsteps.

Quiet, almost non-existent squishing sounds, the sound of a foot hitting mud and then being pulled off. The footsteps neared where she lay on this dirty ground.

_Squish _

_Squish_

_Squish_

And suddenly there was a hand on her head, her trembling figure jumping in surprise, and her teeth were chattering under her blue tinted lips.

"Mommy...? Mommy...? Is that you?" She asked, grabbing the hand with freezing fingers, clinging to it and closing her eyes. "I missed you...where did you go...?"

The hand seemed to soften at these words, and it was so warm....

"You're so warm, momma." Angela said with contentment, voicing her thoughts and hugging the hand closer. And in this contentment, Angela found herself drifting pleasantly.

"Mommy, am I a bad girl?"

She felt the hand encircle her waist, felt herself being lifted from the dirty ground.. And she realized...this wasn't mommy...but she couldn't bring herself to care all that much. The person holding her was so...warm...so comforting.

She snuggled into the mysterious person's chest without looking up, not even bothering to look at their face. She didn't care who it was. The feel of another human's flesh against her own in what was only a comforting gesture killed her defenses, knocked them down.

And Angela drifted, felt herself being carried...

Felt herself being taken somewhere...

She forgot for a little while.

The dream cuts off. No....not a dream....a memory....where is she?

She's on fire, burning with each step. She can feel feel eyes on her back. It's probably that traitorous man...always looking for his precious wife. Well, he can't help her at all, he can't help her or his wife. He won't follow her to wherever she may be going, up these stairs to hell. He will just stand at the bottom, and watch her suffer...he doesn't know true pain.

He may think he does...he may feel that he does...but he will never feel the pain of a victim. He isn't one and never was, in fact, he preyed upon someone. She knew it, she could see it in his lifeless eyes, and it was so disgusting.

How revolting they were...

"Ahhhhh..." She moaned, feeling the flames lick up her thighs, burning her from the inside out. Cleansing flames...it hurt so badly....she was dying...or...maybe...she was already dead.

But she was crying now...she hadn't cried in so long...but she could feel the warm wetness rolling down her face. It hurt...it hurt...it hurt....it hurt...pain...pain...pain.

And then she was at the top of the stairs, looking back for just a moment, trembling with pain. The flames...the flames and the devil.

"Oh...oh..." She turned back around, her eyes closed for a moment, before opening them again.

A wide, gaping void before her. No flames, just darkness....she needed....

Step after step, she made her way into the darkness, feeling the comforting embrace wrap around her. And she knew no more.


	16. Sick Obsession

**Story Concept by: bleeep**

**JAMES X TOILET (GRAPHIC CONTENT, THOSE WEAK OF STOMACH, PLEASE….JUST STOP…)**

**Title: Sick Obsession**

**Congratulations bleeep, you have peeked my interest. I was in an especially…yucky mood.**

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**

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With a grimace that could match no other, James reached into the disgusting toilet.

Why, you ask?

Well…why not?

Surely there is something interesting in this toilet that James must discover to complete his awesome adventure, I mean…why else would the toilet be there? This toilet had to have some sort of significance.

It was no matter at all that James couldn't see the bottom of the dung-infested toilet and the atrocious smell coming from it could probably kill Pyramid Head all on its own, should he perchance partake in the truly disturbing odor.

James's hand slid slickly into the concoction, melting in a truly comforting way into his fingernails. He sighed, feeling warmth surround his hand. It had been so long since he'd felt any warmth. He wondered when this porcelain beauty had last been used, running his other hand on the side of the toilet, relishing in its cool surface.

"You tease…" He muttered, playfully swatting the side of the toilet, pretending that it was that tart, Maria, who showed so much skin. He shoved his hand deeper into the beauty, feeling the warmth of it encase his wrist.

"I'm such a sicko…" He muttered, stopping his hand when he felt a hard object in the matter, pulling it up with hesitance, reluctant to release the warm pile of mush.

His hand came back to him with what appeared to be a wallet, along with the green mushiness that inhabited the toilet. Not just a toilet….it was truly…the toilet.

"My porcelain god…wait for me…" He whispered tearfully, looking back to his love. Mary didn't hold a candle to this beauty that had showed him so much warmth and love, accepting his well-fed buttock upon it, unlike Mary or Maria. It owned his heart.

"We will meet again…"

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In front of Heather sat a toilet.

For a moment, she contemplated the object, taking in its appearance, the lid raised invitingly. It was filthy, full of muddy water. Something appeared to be stopping it up…

Hesitantly, she reached out, a look of disgust upon her face…

"Forget it! This is way too gross!" She looked away from the toilet. She knew her limits.

"Who would even think of doing something so disgusting?"

**Attention Viewers. If you do not understand how Heather plays into this, I highly recommend you watch the link posted below.**

**Love, Hilarious-Mayhem.**

**.com/watch?v=YdBY3WOTj4c**


	17. Silent Hell

**By: Hilarious Mayhem**

**SUGGESTED/ CONTRIBUTED BY****: StoryMasterDX *Sorry this took so long. I'm going through all the suggestions and starting back up.**

_Summary: A man named Jake with a torrid past reveals a glimpse into why he ended up in Silent Hill._

The smell of sweat and iron filled his nostrils.

It seemed as if this were his personal hell. And he knew he deserved it. God did he deserve this. It was his entire fault.

But even in these dark times, he only remembered one thing clearly. The smile on his mother's face the last day he had seen her in person. Her golden hair had been shining in the light of the early morning, hair that was so similar to his own.

"_I love you sweetheart, have a good day."_

Jake had never been a particularly good person. In fact, he thought he was probably one of the most horrible people on this planet. It was his fault that she had died. It was his fault that the beautiful, kind, and nurturing woman who had raised him had met her end.

His father had left them at a young age, Jake didn't even really remember the man much less have any feelings for him. His mother had always told him that they were better off without him, that he was not the man she had married. He had cheated on her and abused her. Broken her in so many ways. But then again, so had Jake.

Jake clutched his gun, his breath coming out in shallow gasps as he traversed the strange corridors. He didn't know where he was. But he knew it was some kind of hell. Creatures that he couldn't have even dreamed of had assaulted him through his journey. Blood and rust. That's the most appropriate description of his surroundings.

He had received cryptic messages throughout the journey, saw many of his "friends" and killed many of these "monsters."

Pictures scattered about, pictures of his and his mother pasted on random sections of the wall. But for some reason the blood and rust didn't touch these places. They were pristine and white around the pictures, as if it were surrounded in a halo.

God he missed her.

He missed the freshly baked cookies. He missed her smile. He missed her constant worrying and nagging.

He had taken her for granted at the time, always brushing her off. Never taking the time for her. He had always thought he was such a badass and got involved in the wrong group of people.

He began taking drugs, anything he could get ahold of. His mother worried. When she called he would only have short conversations, always ready to be rid of her. He hadn't thought he needed her constant stress. He became desperate for the next high and got a little more than he could handle.

He borrowed a lot of money to pay for his addiction and ended up in debt.

He never thought that the local drug dealer would go after her. Maybe he didn't care. He went into hiding to escape, to protect his own hide.

Jake felt the bitter hot tears flow down his face, tears of self-pity. And he felt ashamed. He leaned against the wall, letting his hands drop to his sides.

Ahead he could faintly see a door, with a bright light leaking from the cracks. But he didn't venture forward yet, feeling the painful memories flow.

"_So you've been hiding here, you stupid son of a bitch." He heard the too-familiar voice say mockingly from the doorway. Jake roused from his sleepy stupor, facing his adversary. The drug dealer, Leim, sad on the end of his bed, a smirk on his face._

_Jake had been holed up in this seedy motel for nearly 4 weeks. He knew eventually he would find him._

"_I guess my time is up." Jake said, sitting up, once again crying those tears of self-pity._

"_I've already collected my payment." The man said, grinning._

Jake's head throbbed as he remembered the feeling of relief wash through him at the man's words. He hadn't even considered what payment was being collected. He had found out the next day, when he received the phone call.

_The phone let off an insistent ringing, waking Jake of his dreams. He groaned in annoyance, reaching for the phone._

"_Hello?" He answered in a rough and annoyed tone._

"_Mr. Sanderson? Jake Sanderson?" The voice questioned._

"_Yes, this is he."_

"_This is Lieutenant Gilson with the Maine State Police Department."_

"_Well what do you want? I haven't done anything." He said in a protective tone._

"_No sir, I'm calling about your mother, Cathy…"_

That was the moment the world had stopped turning for Jake. He had been called to identify the body, as she was his only remaining relative, of course it was her. Her face was calm, almost peaceful in death. She had almost looked as if she were sleeping. But the ugly bullet hole in her forehead showed the truth.

In his own misery Jake slinked lower into his addiction, becoming the person he hated the most. He hated himself. He hated the world.

But only a year later everything changed.

He received a letter, claiming to be his mother. God how he wanted it to be her, and how it sounded like her. He could almost hear her voice through the letter.

"_Do you remember when you were a child visiting your grandparents, Jake? That beautiful boat trip we took on Toluca Lake? It was one of the happiest times of my life Jake. I wanted to achieve that same happiness once again. But I'm here, and still I can't. I know it's because you're not here with me. I'll always love you."_

And he had traveled there of course with what resources he had, hitch-hiking and walking his way here. But once he had gotten to the town of Silent Hill, it wasn't the beautiful place he had remembered. It was his nightmare. And he knew he deserved it.

He lifted himself from the wall, continuing on his way to the lightened room, the moans of anguish still coming out his mouth.

When he stepped into the room he saw something that broke him.

His mother laying on the floor, a bloodied hand lifted out to him.

"_Jake, please…helppp meee…." _ The light in her eyes faded and the surrounding changed, the screeching sound of metal invading his senses.

The hulking creature replaced his mother, the stretched arm turning into a huge sword. The smell of blood and metal.

_Screeeeeeeech_

Jake readied his gun, aiming at the creature and emptied all of the chambers. The creature continued forward, determined to capture his prey. Jake turned around, yanking at the once open door, now locked.

"Nooo." He cried out, reloading the gun. He shot until he could no longer feel the gun in his hand or hear the deafening sound each shot made.

The creature was strong.

But Jake's will was stronger. Just as the monster had his great knife on Jake's throat, he unloaded the last bullet, and watched as the predator fell to his knees.

Jake felt no satisfaction, falling to his knees and screaming.

After the creature's death, he saw only once thing.

His mother lying dead before him, her hand outstretched as if to touch him.


End file.
